


Legacies

by dreabean, Troodon



Series: I'll Drown Them In Blood For You, My Dear [1]
Category: Dishonored (Video Games)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Body Horror, Corvo Attano is Not Okay, Daud Ex Machina, Fluff and Angst, Granny Cockblock, Heads Up Theres Torture, Her Imperial Momjesty, Jessamine is everyone's mom, Lovecraftian Themes, Multi, Polyamory, Slow Burn, Vera Moray is Horrible, What If Jessamine Got The Mark, seducing deities for fun and profit
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-11-24
Updated: 2017-01-31
Packaged: 2018-09-01 20:59:24
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 11
Words: 40,212
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8637850
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/dreabean/pseuds/dreabean, https://archiveofourown.org/users/Troodon/pseuds/Troodon
Summary: In which Jessamine Kaldwin, first of her name: destroys a conspiracy, dances with a god, adopts a cult of assassins, saves her Lord Protector, and wins a negotiation.All in a day's work for The Empress of the Isles.





	1. In Which There Is A Coup

**Author's Note:**

> This is Drea's fault.
> 
> I wanted to see someone notice how damn lonely The Outsider is. Then this happened.
> 
> Hang on, kiddos. This one is going to hurt.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which Jessamine receives the Mark and stares down a god.

It happened so fast.

" _Emily!_ "

"NO!"

It took three seconds for her daughter to use a move clearly learned from Corvo to slip out of the assassin's hold and charge in-between Jessamine and her attacker. Three seconds for her spirited ten-year-old to throw herself at the leader and get in the way. Three seconds to watch helplessly as the blade easily pierced her tiny body and come out the other side.

For a moment everyone froze. Jessamine could see in her periphery the leader's face twist into an expression of horror. Then Emily coughed, red splattering the white tile between her black shoes. In that instant time resumed, the assassin recoiling and vanishing along with his accomplices, Corvo falling to the ground, and Jessamine was free to lunge forward and scoop her daughter into her arms.

"Mama?" Emily panted, her voice high and thin with pain and fear. "Mama, it hurts."

"I know, I know. My baby, my darling. It's going to be alright." Jessamine frantically put pressure on the gaping wound high on her daughter's chest. Emily hadn't called her 'Mama' since she was very little. "Please, please, please dearest. Please stay with me. Don't close your eyes!" She was vaguely aware of Corvo screaming for help, a medic, anything. Jessamine fumbled out of her jacket to press it to the rapidly growing red spot on her daughter's delicate white clothes.

It took Emily less than five minutes to die. During that time Jessamine never stopped reassuring her, clinging tight to the tiny body. It took four guardsmen to pry her from her daughter's corpse.

Two weeks later was the funeral. Those still healthy lined the streets, throwing flowers. The funeral carriage was covered in Emily's favourite roses. Corvo and Anton were both pallbearers. Anton was weeping openly into his beard. Corvo was stone-faced, eyes sharp and dark like chips of obsidian. The service was run by High Overseer Campbell, but Jessamine was too numb to pay attention. She went through the processes and speeches, thanking every attendant mechanically. It wasn't until she was back in her rooms that she poured herself the strongest whiskey she could and broke down.

***

When Jessamine opened her eyes, her room was dim and cold. In the distance she could hear whale song. Jessamine stood and dusted herself off, wondering why everything felt subtly _wrong_. As she did a slow circuit of the room, she found herself in front of a door that hadn't been there before. Jessamine boldly opened it, long past the point of caring about assassins.

Beyond her threshold was a vast grey expanse. In the distance, she could see something like a sun low on the non-existent horizon. Chunks of her palace floated about the place, forming a pathway that spiraled up and out of her sight. With a sigh, Jessamine kicked off her impractical shoes and followed. If this was what and where she thought it was, she needn't worry about her image here.

As Jessamine reached the top of the spiral, it flattened out into a rough square. She gingerly stepped into the middle and peered around.

"Well, well. This was a surprise."

Jessamine spun around to see a dark-haired youth perched on top of a pillar. He looked deathly pale, the dark colour of his clothing only suiting to emphasise that. The whiteness of his skin also served to make his pure black eyes all the more striking.

"Would I be correct in assuming you are the creature known as The Outsider?" Jessamine asked, calmly. She watched one elegant eyebrow quirk upwards and an amused smirk tug at his thin lips.

"Did you know that, of all the possibilities surround that attack, this outcome was so unlikely it was very nearly impossible? And to see you standing so boldly in front of a god. Is this arrogance of an Empress, or the grief of a mother?" Jessamine drew herself up. She was not going to crack before this being.

"Are you here to take my soul? If so, please get on with it. I have no patience for pontificating."

To her astonishment, The Outsider grinned. It was nothing more than a quick flash of teeth, but it was there nevertheless.

"Oh, I have no interest in your soul," he said, before vanishing in a swirl of shadow.

"I wish to offer you a gift." Jessamine whipped around to find the deity now sitting on an outcropping of rock behind her. She frowned.

"And what is this gift?" Negotiations with dignitaries had taught Jessamine to be wary of vague terms. Especially ones involving gifts.

"My Mark," The Outsider told her, slipping off of his perch and beginning to pace. "It will give you supernatural abilities with which you can do whatever you like. All I ask in return is for you, your majesty, to not be boring."

Jessamine met the deity stare for stare. "If I am to receive this gift, I want you to offer it to Corvo as well. I go nowhere without him."

The being tilted his head, oddly birdlike for so human a form. "Done. Do you accept my Mark, Jessamine Kaldwin?" Jessamine looked down at her hands, remembering Emily's terrified face, the assassin's blow that left her unable to save her daughter. She remembered Corvo's helplessness in the face of black magic. She balanced vengence against the fear of the Abbey.

There really was only one choice.

"I accept."

The pain was a welcome change from the numbness.

***

Jessamine awoke to hands on her. With a shout, she lashed out at her assailant, nearly backhanding Corvo.

"Jessamine! Jess! It's me. It's Corvo. You were having a nightmare." Jess stared at Corvo uncomprehendingly for a moment, before relaxing into his arms. A quick glance around told her they were alone in the study.

"Oh my love. I had a terrible dream," she murmured into his shoulder. Then she flinched.

"What?" Corvo demanded, pulling away in a panic. "What is it? Are you hurt?"

Jessamine shushed him and peered at the back of her left hand. There it was. The Mark of the Outsider. Jessamine disentangled herself from Corvo's arms and grabbed his hands. As she did so, she could feel gloves covering his hands. Corvo never wore gloves, saying they impeded his grip.

"Love, don't-" Corvo began as she scrambled to tug it off. He cut himself off as he saw her own Mark. He caught her hands in a vice-like grip as she exposed his Mark.

"What did you do?!" Corvo demanded in horror. As Jessamine outlined her encounter with The Outsider, Corvo went from looking horrified to appalled to resigned.

"Only you would try to negotiate with a god," he muttered, pinching the bridge of his nose. Jessamine found that somewhat unfair. Clearly this was a virtue, not a fault.

"Don't you see, now?" Jessamine said, eagerly gripping her lover's coat. "We can avenge her. We can find out who it was that killed her, and destroy them."

Corvo looked dubious. "Jess, I have the experience with this sort of fight, but you..." Jessamine narrowed her eyes at her Lord Protector.

"Train me, then. And in the evenings we will see what powers we have been given." When Corvo still looked hesitant, Jessamine stood to her full height and looked down at him. "Corvo, if you do not train me, then I will go out on my own. I am not having another person I love die in my arms. And I am certainly not sending you out to die in my stead."

"Jess..." Corvo began, before sighing and rubbing his face. His stubble rasped against his palms. "Alright. You have an opening in your schedule this morning after breakfast. We'll begin then."

Jessamine smiled. "I look forward to it." Maybe now she could move forward and avenge her daughter.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Oh jeez. Hopefully the chapters will become longer as I get used to writing.
> 
> Full credit to Drea for giving me the idea for this. Without her, this never would have been written.


	2. In Which A God Is Offended By A Book

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Training, powers, and assassins, oh my!

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Also titled "THESE TWO ARE SO IN LOVE AND JESS IS GOING TO BE THE BEST OF FRIENDS WITH THE OUTSIDER YEAH!!!" because I get really enthusiastic about these things.

Months Later:

"Again!" Corvo barked, as he caught Jessamine a sharp smack to the ribs with their dulled practice sword. "You're not a fencer, there's no points being dealt for honourable conduct or perfect poise. The only rule in real combat is 'Survive'!"

Jessamine rubbed her smarting side and glared at her Lord Protector. He just smirked and waited for Jessamine to attack again. Today was learning how to attack. Apparently years of tutors had taught her nothing on how to fight for real, at least according to Corvo. Much of what she had been taught was for duels or show, where there were strict rules and showmanship was just as important as winning. Corvo, however, learned to fight where lives were on the line, and his ruthlessly efficient way of fighting and his many wins in tournaments proved that. Jessamine's marksmanship was impeccable, her stealth was excellent, but her lifelong training in noble's swordsmanship had left her vulnerable.

With a determined snarl, she lunged to the attack, again.

***

Later, sporting several new bruises, they crouched side-by-side on the rooftop of an abandoned building, Jessamine resting her cheek on Corvo's shoulder. Despite the chill, they were hidden in the shadow of some pipes. After a moment, she frowned, breaking the comfortable silence.

"Do you hear that?" she asked. When Corvo shook his head and tensed, ready for danger, Jessamine's frown deepened. "I hear a faint rushing noise." Jessamine stood and turned her head this way and that, trying to pinpoint the sound.

"I think it's coming from below us," she said, concentrating hard. In the space of a blink, Jessamine found herself suddenly standing in a dimly-lit room. From above her, she could hear Corvo give a muffled shout of surprise. Jessamine quickly looked around for a way to him, spotting a balcony just visible in the next room. She rushed to it, yanking on the latch until it gave. Just as she wrestled the doors open, there was a blur and puff of blue smoke on the balcony. Corvo appeared on the railing, arms windmilling wildly as he tried to regain his balance. Jessamine grabbed a double-fistful of his coat and threw her weight backwards, hauling her lover to safety. Corvo tumbled gracelessly into the building, twisting to keep from landing on his charge.

There was a pause while everyone waited to regain their breath.

"What... was _that_?" Jessamine blurted in-between gasps.

"Our powers, I'd think," answered Corvo. He looked at Jessamine, the ghosts of terror in his face. "You- you just vanished into the shadows, Jess. I thought-" His voice broke then, and he stopped, unable to continue. Jessamine pressed her palm to his cheek, letting him feel the warmth of her living skin.

"I'm still here, my dearest Corvo," she murmured reassuringly. "I was merely startled. And it seems you have these sorts of powers, yourself!"

Corvo flexed his Marked hand, staring at the covered back of it. "It seems I do. But next time, let's test it out in a much safer area, hm?"

Jessamine huffed. "Well, it's not like I was terrifying you on purpose!"

Corvo smirked, bumping her knee with his. " _This_ time." Jessamine opened her mouth to retort, paused, then closed it with a wry grin. She knew they were both remembering the times in their youth where she would test the limits of Corvo's patience by sneaking off when he wasn't looking. Or when she tried Sokolov's new rifle prototype and it very nearly took out her eye. Or when she challenged one of the Pendletwins to a duel and refused to let Corvo be her champion.

Actually, the list was quite long, come to think of it. Corvo's smirk grew at her annoyed silence. It had been a long time since she'd seen that teasing flash of teeth. Not since before-

Don't think on it.

"So," Jessamine said, standing and brusquely brushing herself off. "Let us see where we found ourselves." She pulled a still-smiling Corvo to his feet.

The room they were in was plainly left in a hurry. Moldy food was still on plates. But the rushing noise that had caught her attention was coming from the hall next door. A pulsing, violet light was also glowing gently from that direction. When the two rounded the doorway, they were confronted by swaths of blue velvet, stitched in gold. An altar stood in the place of honour beneath the drapes, and on it were runes.

"A shrine," Jessamine whispered. The rushing sound was louder now. It reminded her of hearing the tide roaring through the latticework of caves under Whitecliff. Mesmerized, she reached out to pick up the runes. As soon as she did so, the Mark on the back of her hand flashed beneath her gloves and the rune crumbled to ash.

"I see you've begun to use my gift," a familiar deadpan voice drawled. Jessamine and Corvo turned to see the Outsider hovering in the shadows behind them.

"It would have helped if you had spared the time to tell me what it does," Jessamine snapped, annoyed by the shock. The Outsider merely smirked, looking amused.

"Now where's the fun in that," he drawled, before vanishing just to reappear sitting cross-legged above the shrine.

"How do these Marks work?" Corvo stepped forward to ask. "Is there a limit? Any other powers we should know about?"

The Outsider shrugged. "I don't choose the powers you're given. I am only interested in the results." He paused, then leaned forward into Jessamine's space.

"You're going to meet your daughter's killer one day soon," he murmured, staring into her eyes. "What will you do, I wonder. Will you order his death? Kill him yourself? Or maybe you will stop and listen where others would strike. There is much to learn if you were to just pay attention, your majesty. You should consider your options carefully. You have much to lose if you act without thought." The Outsider straightened and smiled slightly. "I look forward to your decision."

Then he vanished in a wave of shadow. The two stood in silence for a moment, contemplating their new knowledge before Corvo finally spoke up.

"Well, that was... vague." Jessamine chuckled at his perturbed expression.

"I get the feeling he was trying to be helpful, in his own way," Jessamine said, before turning serious and facing her lover. "You heard what he said, though." Corvo's expression darkened.

"Her murderer," he growled. His already deep voice became a basso rumble of rage. Jessamine caught his face in her hands, forcing him to meet her eyes.

"Corvo, my love, we must try to act rationally. This was clearly a coordinated attack." She let go of Corvo in order to pace the hallway. "That man was only a tool. We need to find the ones truly responsible. While getting this dangerous assassin off of the street is a priority, we must also keep in mind that he must know who hired him. We will get this information from him. No matter the cost." She looked up and met his fierce stare. "We are going to find out who orchestrated this attack, and we are going to make them pay."

***

Although Corvo and Jessamine waited, there was no sign of the man that stole their daughter from them.

Weeks passed without any event. Hiram Burrows kept bringing up his concerns that Jessamine should take a sabbatical, leave him in charge. Surely the rest would do her good? She's given so much to the empire, let it give back, and so on and so forth until Jessamine wanted to box his oversized ears. She was fine. Everything was fine.

Some days, when it became too much, she snuck out to the shrine she'd found. Though the Outsider never returned, Jessamine found the soft ocean noises to be soothing to her troubled mind. In return, she left books on the altar. The deity had seemed like he needed something to do beyond carrying off unsuspecting people to the Void and monologuing at them. Jessamine thought this was clearly a sign of a long life (existence?) spent alone. The man obviously needed something to distract him.

Jessamine started with whatever she had found interesting. Penny novels and mysteries littered the area around the shrine. When those vanished, she left adventure novels and a large book detailing the songs of the Isles. That vanished as well, with the other books reappearing. Then, in the spirit of mischief she brought a book on the Abbey of the Everyman.

Little did she know the bloodfly nest she'd disturbed.

"This is utterly ridiculous."

Jessamine blinked the sleep from her eyes as she peered around the Void.

"What is?"

The Outsider held out the Abbey books. He was currently floating upside-down, frowning at the offending tome.

"I most certainly don't eat souls," he grumbled, flipping through the pages. "And have they ever seen a Leviathan? It most certainly doesn't have a human face! And look at this! This Overseer is saying I possess people to make them commit ridiculous carnal acts!"

Jessamine lost the battle and started laughing. When the Outsider broke off his irritated critique and glared, she only laughed harder. Eventually, she calmed down enough to wipe her eyes and flash the annoyed deity a grin.

"I was wondering when you'd respond," she said. "I decided, of all the books I could give you, that one was the most likely to pique your attention."

Without taking his eyes off of her, the Outsider snapped the book closed and vanished.

"Did you like any of them?" Jessamine asked the empty air. She knew the Outsider was still around. He was clearly just sulking. It was the most human she'd ever seen him.

"The book on Pandyssia was nice," a voice murmured in her ear. Jessamine jumped and turned to face the deity. "It reminded me of... old times."

"I'll get you Sokolov's journals from his exploration of the continent, then," Jessamine said. The Outsider frowned, before giving her the very strong idea that he had just rolled his eyes.

"Sokolov, while useful, is not nearly as fascinating as you and Corvo are." He gazed at her with his head tilted slightly to one side. "Why are you doing this? You can't win more gifts from me, and if it's to court me, I'll have your sight. Many have tried, and I've found it to be the quickest way to lose my interest."

Despite the dead tones, Jessamine shivered at the threat.

"I merely thought you might like something to do out here," she said. "It seems terribly dull in the Void. Nothing new, nothing changes, no people to talk to. I thought you might like some entertainment."

The Outsider stared at her for an endless moment. Jessamine felt like she was being flayed open and all her secrets searched. Finally he turned away, going back to looking out over the Void.

"Bring me whatever you find interesting," he murmured. "The tales from your childhood, the ones that frightened you, the ones that delighted you. Bring me the books full of your memories."

Jessamine hid a smile and merely said, "Done." The Outsider bowed his head in acknowledgement and was gone. 

***

When Jessamine woke up, there was a blade at her throat.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> DUHN DUHN DUUUUUHHHHHNNNNN!


	3. In Which A Cadre Of Assassins Are Drafted

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Daud is a broken man. Jessamine can use that.

"Don't call out. Just stay quiet and I swear no harm will come to you."

Jessamine glared silently up into the eyes of her daughter's murderer. His distinctive scar was a slash of darkness in the moonlit room. The assassin waited until she twitched her head in a jerky nod, mindful of the sword at her throat.

"So you are the infamous Daud," Jessamine murmured. She reached slowly for the lamp at her bedside, waiting to see if Daud would let her. When he made no move, she twisted the nob to illuminate the room. What she saw of the Isles' deadliest assassin was shocking. The man looked like he hadn't slept for weeks. His red coat was frayed and blood-stained and splashed with mud. Though the hand holding a naked blade to her throat was steady, a fine tremor ran through the man. He looked like he had fought his way out of the Void itself.

"I know you have no reason to trust me, Empress," Daud rasped, "but I have valuable information to give you." He hesitated, then reversed his grip on his sword and offered it to her. "A show of faith."

Jessamine shifted further into the shadows, ready to Jump if he moved, and took the heavy blade from the assassin's gloved hands. "I assume you are going to tell me who hired you?"

"First I want a guarantee," Daud cautioned, not quite meeting her eyes. Jessamine felt her lip curl in disgust.

"I assume you want your miserable life to be spared?" She sneered. Daud swallowed hard and shook his head.

"I ask for the lives of my men. The majority weren't present at the... attack, and some are just children. Please, your majesty. I know I deserve death and worse for what I've done. Ever since I killed the girl, something broke in me. I'm a broken man, Empress, but my men don't deserve to suffer for my actions. Swear on your daughter's grave that you'll spare them your wrath and I'll tell you the names and where to find enough evidence to convict them."

Before Jessamine could give her answer, the door to her bedchamber slammed open, letting Corvo charge in with a furious roar.

"DON'T YOU TOUCH HER!" Corvo's normally handsome face was twisted in a hateful and terrified snarl. He lunged for Daud, blade at the ready. Jessamine saw her chance to avenge her daughter slipping through her fingers, so she did the only thing she could think of. She held out her left hand to the scene unfolding and yelled, " _Stand down!_ "

The Mark on her hand flared a brilliant teal-gold and her voice sounded odd and echoing in her ears. Even more miraculously, Corvo froze mid-stride and lowered his blade. His eyes were glassy and unfocussed. Jessamine stared at him in shock.

"Corvo?" She asked, tentatively, keeping on eye on Daud who remained kneeling at her bedside. Corvo didn't move. He didn't even seem to blink.

Daud scrutinized her. "So the black-eyed bastard got to you," he said, glancing at her hand. "None of his 'gifts' have permanent effects. Your bodyguard should recover."

Jessamine chewed her lip, watching Corvo stare vacantly. Then her eyes narrowed and she turned to Daud.

"You know him, then," she asked. "You know the Outsider? I guessed you had been Marked by him. No one is able to have abilities like yours without some outside intervention."

Daud barked a mirthless laugh. "He and I have known each other for a very long time, Empress. I was given his 'gifts' at a very young age. But I doubt you care much about my past, do you." Daud's hands clenched into fists on his thighs. "I need an answer, Empress."

Jessamine sighed, pinching the bridge of her nose. The day hadn't even begun and already she was worn out. "I see little choice in the matter," she growled. "My spymaster insists it was the work of some of the lesser nobility. Corvo hasn't found anything at all. All of our leads have been useless or dead of the plague." Jessamine sighed, before tightening her grip on Daud's sword. "You have my word. I will grant amnesty to your cadre of assassins, _but only if_ the information leads to the arrest of those involved in the attempt. I'm no fool, Daud. I will not pardon murderers on the word of a child-killer-" Daud flinched at the word, huffing out a breath like she'd punched him "-without sufficient proof that his word is in fact good."

Daud bowed his head. "Done," he murmured, before looking up at her again. He still couldn't meet her gaze. "The one that hired me was Hiram Burrows, your spymaster. Thaddeus Campbell, the High Overseer, was also there. After the... attack, I sent my men to scout out his office. He recorded his thoughts and kept the cards in his safe. The code is nine-three-five."

Jessamine nodded, impressed, despite herself. "Your men learned all that?" she asked. She studied Daud appraisingly.

"Many of our jobs require us to learn about our targets. It's basic surveillance, Empress, nothing more."

Jessamine looked at Daud, her face impassive. She didn't want to betray the thoughts churning in her mind. Just as she was about to speak, Corvo gasped and stumbled forwards.

"Corvo!" Jessamine yelped, leaping out of bed to steady him. Corvo blinked at her, looking incredibly disoriented.

"Jess?" Corvo muttered. "I don't-" He broke off upon seeing Daud. " _You._ "

"Corvo, wait," Jessamine said, grabbing ahold of his arm as he tried to push her behind him. "He knows who bought Emily's death." Out of the corner of her eye, she saw Daud grimace.

"The child was never the target," he said. "You were, Empress. I was to kidnap the princess and take her to the hotel near the Golden Cat, where one of the conspirators would hide her away." Jessamine could feel Corvo's muscles flex under his coat. She could just imagine the glare he was sending Daud's way.

"Relax, bodyguard," Daud sighed. "I've had my fill of killing. I've also left orders with my men. No one is to take a contract on the Empress ever again." Daud looked up at the two of them. The man looked like all will to live had left him.

Jessamine gazed down at the man kneeling before her. She remembered the Outsider's warning. Watch and wait instead of strike to kill. She smiled, razor-sharp, as an idea came to her.

"Daud," she began, getting the assassin's attention. "I'd like to hire you and your men."

Corvo jolted where he stood between her and Daud. He glanced over his shoulder at Jessamine in shock and confusion. Jessamine sent him a look that said, 'trust me, I'm using politics'.

Daud was sending her an identical look. "You want to- what?"

"Hire you. I require enough evidence to convict Campbell, and you are also to find out who his conspirators are. If he was to successfully assume the throne as Regent, he would need financial backing as well as the controlling votes in parliament. You and your men are to find out who his allies are and bring me sufficient evidence of either their involvement in this attempted coup, or evidence enough to convict them of some other crimes. I will find out who ordered this attack upon my person and I will bring them to their knees."

Both Corvo and Daud were gaping at her. Jessamine stepped around Corvo to stand over Daud. She drew herself to her full, formidable height and glared down at the man. "If you try to run, if you try to betray me, I want you to know, _Daud_ that I can find you and your men, and I will happily hand them over to the Overseers for interrogation and immolation. I will use the powers given to me by the Outsider and I will destroy both you and your rag-tag group of hired killers. You have my word on that, assassin."

Keeping a careful eye on both Jessamine and Corvo, Daud slowly rose from his knees. Then, pressing his clenched fist to his heart, he bowed deeply to her. "As you wish, Empress."

Then he dissolved into the night with a whoosh of air.

As soon the master assassin disappeared, Corvo turned to Jessamine and began frantically looking her over.

"Are you hurt? What happened?" Corvo demanded. He looked terrified.

"I'm fine," Jessamine reassured him. "He never did anything to harm me."

Corvo wrapped her up in a tight hug. Jessamine could feel him shaking slightly beneath the layers of his uniform.

"Corvo?"

"I thought the worst," whispered Corvo into her hair. "I saw the unconscious guards outside your room, and-" His voice broke. Jessamine held him just as tightly as he clung to her. "I can't lose you too, Jess. I won't survive it. I'd drown the Empire in the blood of those responsible."

Jessamine shivered at the rage and grief in her lover's voice.

"Shh, my dearest," she assured him, reaching up to stroke his hair. "I am alive and unharmed. The men responsible for this are going to suffer for their actions."

Corvo gently pulled away. "Jess... You let him go."

"Daud? He was merely a pawn. One that is being punished by his own mind for what he's done. Daud is a broken man, Corvo. And I intend to use that to our advantage." Corvo looked hesitant, then turned thoughtful.

"He wanted to die," he murmured. Jessamine hid a smile as her Lord Protector's sharp mind turned from fear and began to dissemble the puzzle. "He didn't just surrender to the guards because they would have summoned the Overseers. You mentioned Campbell?" Jessamine nodded. "So he was in on the coup as well. Then going to the Overseers would be even more of a death sentence than before.

"Tell me everything he told you. We need to remain a united front on this."

Jessamine did as she slipped into her clothing. There would be no more sleep today.

***

The most difficult part was pretending ignorance. She had her monthly visit with Campbell, and through it all had to listen to his bragging about the Overseer attack on the den of heretics in the Flooded District. Thankfully, years of training on keeping her expression on of polite interest despite the political climate helped here. Jessamine drank her tea and simpered at the repulsive man.

She had to post Corvo by the door to her office when Hiram came by. Even he couldn't maintain a calm expression when the man who ordered Jessamine's death was standing in arm's reach of his charge. Jessamine kept those visits short, otherwise she'd find herself looking longingly at the letter opener and going over Corvo's lessons on the best places to stab a man.

It was just after one of these meeting, in the brief time between Hiram leaving and her next appointment when Jessamine saw Corvo's head snap up to glare at the decorative ledge that ran around her office. For a moment, Jessamine thought his eyes glowed with the light of the Void.

"Leave us," Jessamine commanded the maids clearing up the detritus from her tea. She waited until the door clicked shut behind them, and Corvo confirmed that there was no one listening at the door before turning to the spot where Corvo had been staring.

"Well?" she prompted, feeling a bit smug at surprising one of the infamous Whalers. With a rush of air the assassin appeared in front of her desk. He pressed his fist to his heart and bowed, ignoring Corvo stalking past to glare at him from behind Jessamine.

"Thaddeus Campbell has nothing we could find tying him to the conspiracy," the Whaler began. Jessamine frowned at how young he sounded. "Campbell does, however have other crimes. He has a secret, decadent room filled with velvets and wines and drugs."

Jessamine held up a hand, interrupting the young Whaler. "What is your name?"

The Whaler hesitated before answering, "Thomas, your majesty."

"Thomas," she said, steepling her fingers, "remove your mask. I like to see to whom I am speaking."

Thomas reached up and undid a clasp at the nape of his neck. He pulled the mask off to reveal a shockingly young man with a messy head of short blond hair. His eyes were a bright, clear blue, and possessed the longest, fullest eyelashes Jessamine had ever seen. Thomas stood stoically under her scrutiny, staring at a point just over her left shoulder. Jessamine had seen the very same tactic used by officers reporting to Curnow.

"May I continue my report?" Thomas asked. Jessamine nodded, hiding a smile at his dignified air. "Our contacts at the Golden Cat tell us that he often buys a girl or two for a night. But apparently the girls don't always come back." Jessamine watched a muscle tick in his jaw. "We can show you the room and how to enter if, if your majesty wishes."

Jessamine nodded. "That might be best." She could just imagine Corvo grinding his teeth in frustration behind her. "What of his other conspirators? Burrows must have had other backers."

Thomas bowed his head in affirmation. "Master Daud is currently looking into the Pendletw- the Pendleton twins. We believe they were going to be the ones to hide your daughter until Burrows's grip on the empire was complete. We still need to find out who was funding this attempt on your life, as an attack on that level was incredibly expensive. Unfortunately, we no longer have the resources to undergo the constant surveillance needed to get the required proof."

"I expect you are referring to the Overseer attack on Rudshore?" Jessamine asked. She watched an expression flicker over the young man's features before disappearing.

"Yes, your majesty."

"What resources do you need?" She asked, seeing Corvo jolt out of the corner of her eye. Jessamine pulled a fresh sheet of paper over to prepare to write up a list. She pretended not to notice the look of baffled shock pass over Thomas's face.

"I- we need elixers. Bandages and medicine against infection. Honestly, we need twice as many men, but that is unlikely to happen. But, your majesty-"

"It will be done," Jessamine interrupted. She took pleasure in undermining people's preconceived notions. "We'll leave a chest of supplies a week from now on the roof of the water lock. Is there anything else you need?"

Thomas, struck dumb from shock, shook his head. "No. I-I mean no, your majesty. I thank you for this generosity." He bowed again, deeper than before. Jessamine acknowledged his bow and waved a hand in dismissal. Thomas disappeared.

"Why, exactly are we giving medical supplies to a gang of assassins?" Corvo asked as they retired for the day for whiskey and cigars.

"We need them, Corvo. We don't know who's in the pay of Burrows and his men."

Corvo sighed. "You're right, as usual. I assume you'll misuse imperial resources for this?" Jessamine rolled her eyes at his sarcasm.

"Yes, in fact, I will." She frowned at her whiskey glass.

"Do you think this is the right choice?" She asked. She didn't look up to meet Corvo's sudden, searching stare. "My heart screams out to kill these men, but what message would that send our people? That their Empress is strong enough to punish those who wrong her? Or that she will follow the law and never get her hands dirty?"

Corvo put his cigar down and reached across the table to cup her jaw, forcing Jessamine to meet his eyes.

"I think it's taking more strength than you know to keep yourself from killing them," Corvo said, holding her gaze. "These people deserve death, true, but I think this way will leave you with the least regrets." He swallowed hard before continuing. "It's what Emily would have wanted."

Jessamine felt her eyes well up, and pressed a kiss to Corvo's callused palm. She knew she wanted leave her empire better than it was when she inherited it, but with all the corruption that had been revealed, she just wanted to run and never come back.

Corvo rose from his seat next to her, coming forward to kneel at her feet. Jessamine leaned forward and wrapped her arms around his shoulders. "I miss her. So much," she sobbed. Corvo's arms reached around to pull her close.

"I know," he choked out, "I do too."

They stayed there on her balcony until the moon was high in the sky.


	4. In Which A High Overseer Is Made To Suffer

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I was going to give Calla an accent, but I wasn't confidant in my ability to stay consistent with it. So you'll just have to pretend. She's Morley-born and -raised, which in my mind makes her an Irish ex-pirate queen. Gerome is from Gristol, and is made of toothpicks, swearing, and rage.
> 
> For those that are wondering why Corvo isn't stopping Jess from giving him grey hairs, he can't. He's a bodyguard, and also refuses to question the Empress around enemies (real or suspected). Thus, you can imagine him just quietly despairing behind Jessamine "Hold My Beer" Kaldwin.

Jessamine looked at the heavy crate left near the water lock building. She looked at Corvo. At the roof many meters above. Back to Corvo.

"Tell me you had a plan to get this up there," Corvo said, pinching the bridge of his nose. Jessamine glared.

"I was hoping an opportunity would present itself," said Jessamine, with injured dignity.

"In other words," Corvo retorted, dryly, "you were going to improvise. I've been in enough talks with you to recognise the signs." Jessamine increased her glare, only making Corvo chuckle. "Don't pout, Jess. Maybe our powers can get it up there."

"Do we just... touch it and go?" Corvo asked, eyeing the crate dubiously. Jessamine shrugged. They both stepped up to the crate, grabbed hold and counted, "Three, two, one" and used their respective transversal abilities. Jessamine appeared in the shadows of the roof, empty-handed. Corvo, however appeared with the box and a pained yelp as he dropped it to grab at his shoulder. Jessamine hurried over to him, concerned, but Corvo waved her off.

"I was unprepared for the weight," he reassured her. "I'm fine."

"Evening, Empress," a jovial voiced called out. Jessamine turned to find a tall, broad-shouldered, muscular figure rising from a crouch. Part of her was cataloging threats, but the rest was admiring the muscular arms and thick thighs visible under the thick Whaler uniform.

"Oh! Your pardon, I forgot about the mask," the Whaler said, quickly reaching up and tugging it off. Underneath was a redhead with a crooked grin and freckles scattered across her high cheekbones. Jessamine promptly forgot what she was going to say. "I'm Calla, your majesty."

Corvo leaned close behind her. "You're drooling, love." Jessamine elbowed him and cleared her throat.

"I hope these supplies are adequate." She gestured at the box. "Do you have more people to help you move it?"

"Let me see," Calla chirped, bouncing forwards to peer at the crate. She froze, then turned to Jessamine and Corvo. "Your majesty, this is... A lot of supplies." Calla sounded shocked. "Thank you."

Calla stood and gestured over the side of the building. Moments later two more Whalers appeared. One looked like he or she was just barely out of their teens, the other Jessamine thought she recognised as Thomas. They quickly moved over to the crate and hauled it open. There was a flurry of murmuring and divvying up the elixirs, bandages and blankets. In less than a minute, half the medical supplies were gone, and the insides of the crate re-arranged to cushion the remaining flasks of elixir. Then Calla crouched down and lifted it up onto her shoulder with ease. With a wink at Jessamine, she vanished. Jessamine was grateful for the darkness that hid her blush. Corvo gently nudged her from behind.

"Drooling," he teased. Jessamine cleared her throat.

"Your majesty?" the Whaler she suspected was Thomas prompted. "We have men in position and we are ready to take High Overseer Campbell down. Will you join us?"

Jessamine bared her teeth in a lupine grin. "Oh, yes." She could almost hear Corvo grinding his teeth behind her.

"If you'll follow us, we'll escort you to our safehouse near Holger Square." Without another word, possibly-Thomas disappeared, just to reappear on a ledge below. If Jessamine squinted, she could just barely make out a boat moored by the rocks. Focussing, she followed Thomas down the cliffside.

A short boat ride later, Jessamine was leaping from rooftop, to pipe, to rooftop with a mad grin on her face. She could hear the sounds of Corvo following close at her heel, and thrilled at the freedom she'd been given. She noticed that, unlike Corvo and could-be-Thomas, she could only Jump between shadows, but her range was much longer than either of theirs. Jessamine made a note to ask the Outsider what determines who gets what powers, as the Whalers all seemed to share the same abilities.

Suddenly a cry rang out from the deserted night streets. Jessamine slid to a halt on one of the rooftops overlooking a dim alley. She heard a muffled curse as Corvo overshot her position and had to backtrack, but paid it no mind as she scanned the street below.

There! A pair of grubby urchins were perched on top of a dumpster. Just below, a swarm of rats were stripping a corpse of its flesh. Jessamine swallowed down bile at the gruesome scene.

"Your Majesty?" Maybe-Thomas appeared at her side. He leaned over the edge and peered down at the drama unfolding below. "Ah, I see. They were foolish to take refuge on top of the dumpster. The rats will climb up and devour them once they're done with the corpse."

"Outsider's eyes," Jessamine breathed, horrified. "We have to save them. Can you carry them while transversing?"

Corvo tensed, but nodded, flicking a suspicious look at the Whaler. A hissing sound came from behind the mask. Jessamine guessed it must be a sigh, but the Whaler nodded acquiescence nonetheless. With a _thwip_ of air, the two men disappeared. The Whaler appeared neatly behind one child, grabbing them and transversing away, but Corvo had one foot off the edge of the dumpster and nearly slid off. The urchin he was to save shrieked and tried to recoil from the sudden appearance, but instead stepped too far and began to tip off of the edge onto the rat swarm. Jessamine began to lunge forward to Jump, seeing another small body falling in the child's place. Corvo reached out a hand and-

Everything turned grey.

The child was still falling, but everything had slowed down. Corvo, still moving at a normal speed, grabbed the child's arm, hauled them close, and Blinked off of the dumpster to safety. Jessamine leaned back, covering her face with her hands and inhaling a shaky breath. The image of a small body falling out of her reach kept playing over and over in her mind. She could hear a rushing sound, but it seemed so far away. She couldn't seem to be able to take a full breathe. A part of her mind seemed to detach and vaguely observe that she was hyperventilating.

"-ess.. the with me. Jessamine. I need you to breathe." Dimly, Jessamine became aware of someone holding her. Had time passed? She didn't remember someone arriving. She could smell wool, gunpowder and sword oil. Her fingers were tingling. She was supposed to be breathing though, right. Jessamine gasped in a breath, surprised by how starved her lungs felt. She exhaled and found focussing on her breathing a bit easier. A few more forced, even breaths and she became aware Corvo was crouching in front of her, gently gripping her shoulders. She blinked dumbly at him for a moment or two. Her grasp of time was tenuous still.

"...What?" Jessamine managed through numb lips.

"Let's go back," Corvo murmured, resting his forehead against hers. "This is folly. You're pointlessly endangering yourself. We can send the Whalers on to just execute the scum. You have suffered too much already."

Jessamine forced her sluggish thoughts to actually work. "...No," she said, firming her resolve. "No. We need to be there. I need to witness what happens, and be responsible for the outcome. I refuse to become like them, using catspaws and treating people as disposable things. They _will_ face justice." She pulled away and tried to shake feeling back into her fingers.

"Jess-"

"That's final, Corvo. I will not turn away from my path to spare my sensibilities. This is a war, and one I will win."

Her Lord Protector seemed to sense that Jessamine wasn't going to budge on this issue. He sighed and stood, offering her his hand. "Once more, then." Jessamine grabbed his hand and let her lover pull her to her feet.

From a discreet distance away, the Whaler nodded to her and waited for her to return the nod before continuing on his way.

***

The safehouse was in an apartment overlooking the Square. The Whaler led them up to the roof, where Jessamine could see two others watching the Square. One of the Whalers was wearing a distinctive red coat. Jessamine didn't need Corvo's growl to know exactly who that was.

"Daud," Jessamine greeted him calmly. She refused to show him how much his face affected her.

"Empress," he returned with a bow. He jerked his head towards the ledge, inviting her to look as well. "We have a development."

"What is it?" Jessamine asked, stepping close (but not too close) to the edge. Down below she could see a man in stocks, with an Overseer pacing in front of him. Corvo moved forward to crouch at her left.

"One of our contacts was caught," Daud told her, "trying to get information about Campbell's rise to power and how he is able to keep such blatant violations of the Scripture quiet. He's an Overseer, but an ambitious one. He's offered to help us if we depose Campbell and get him his journal."

Jessamine frowned thoughtfully, watching the Overseer circle the imprisoned man. "Then that journal is the key to Campbell's downfall." She let a sly smirk tug at her lips. "Let's free your contact. But we're keeping him in our pocket. A man like that wouldn't want to have his rise to power questioned before he can consolidate it."

Daud nodded, giving no indication of his thoughts. The other, anonymous Whaler, however, made a sound like he'd just whistled through his teeth and remarked, "You're a fuckin' cold one, ain'tcha, Empress?"

While she could see Corvo and Daud stiffen in her peripheral vision, Jessamine gave the Whaler her most bland political smile. "Whaler, what is your name?"

"Gerome," the Whaler said, reluctantly.

"Gerome," Jessamine said, "I am an Empress. Moreover, I am a woman. To be respected, I must be twice as vicious and thrice as dignified as my father, or I'll be seen as weak. Especially now, where everyone is looking for me to misstep so they can declare me unfit to rule in my grief. If I fail, even once, thousands die. I am not allowed to be anything but cold."

There was a stunned silence. Jessamine could feel Corvo radiating pride beside her. Then Gerome bowed his head slightly. "Guess I misjudged you, Highness." 

There was a choking noise from behind her. "Fuck you, Thomas," Gerome snarled over his shoulder. "I can recognise when I'm wrong."

"It seems like today is a day for impossible things," Thomas mused. Jessamine hid a smile.

"Quiet," Daud snapped. "Empress, there's an ledge that runs just below the windows on the second floor of the High Overseer's office. Campbell is going to be in a meeting tonight. We can catch him there." He turned to Gerome.

"Who is he meeting with," Corvo asked.

"Geoff Curnow."

Corvo grunted. "Hm. A good man."

"Then I doubt Campbell's meeting him for good reasons," Jessamine said. "No matter. We'll attack that problem when it arises." 

Then she drew her sword and leaped off of the roof.

Jessamine barely held in a whoop as she fell, hearing someone's startled shout behind her. She Jumped before she gained too much momentum, landing just behind the Overseer. As the man began to turn, she struck him a blow to the temple. The Overseer crumpled.

As Jessamine checked the Overseer's pulse, she beamed at Corvo as he Blinked down to her.

"How was that?" Jessamine asked, grinning at his harried expression.

"Good," he replied. "Just don't give me a heart attack next time."

"Outsider's eyes," Daud muttered, joining them. "You're worse than the novices."

Jessamine chuckled, and turned away. She pretended to not to notice Daud muttering, "It wasn't a compliment, Empress."

"I'd clap," the imprisoned Overseer said, "but, well..." He wiggled his hands demonstratively. "How about you free me, and I'll buy you a drink. What do you say?"

Thomas strode over to a lever next to the Overseer and pulled it. The Overseer groaned and fell to all fours, before gritting his teeth and gingerly rising to his feet. 

"My thanks, though if I'd known the Empress was coming I would have worn my best coat. Teague Martin," the Overseer bowed to Jessamine with a rakish smile. Jessamine nodded in acknowledgement.

"You have information on Campbell?" Jessamine prompted.

"Right to business, eh?" Martin said. "Oh well. Campbell's been blackmailing the various Overseers to keep his little... Indiscretions, quiet. But you have a lucky break tonight. My informant says Campbell is planning to poison the Captain of Watch tonight. Apparently the man is incorruptible, and hot on Campbell's trail about the dead Cat workers."

"Good," Jessamine said. "He's a potential ally, then. We can use him." She wasn't going to go into further detail. Not with Martin's shrewd eyes watching. "We will get you the book."

"This way, Empress," Daud murmured, moving past her. "We'll leave the journal in the usual dead drop. If you try to double-cross us--"

"Yes, yes," Martin waved them off. "Betray you and die, I know. I'll meet one of your men there. Good luck to you." With another glance between Jessamine and the Whalers, he turned and started walking away.

Meanwhile, Jessamine and the Whalers were scaling the fence. Gerome appeared near them. Jessamine hadn't even noticed him vanish.

"Boss, there's Overseers talkin' about some sort of brand," he reported. "Said it would mark someone as a heretic and they'd get exiled."

"Good work," Daud turned to Jessamine. "You can preform transversals?" At Jessamine's nod, he continued. "Follow me."

Soon they found themselves perched on a ledge outside the meeting room.

"We should just give Campbell the poison," Corvo growled. "It's the least he deserves."

"That's the problem," Jessamine murmured back. "It is the least he deserves. And I refuse to give him the kindness of a quick death. No, we are going to expose him for the plague rat he is."

Daud nodded, and turned to Gerome. "Get information on the Heretic's brand," he ordered. Gerome murmured, "Archives," and vanished. "Thomas, stay here and make sure the Captain lives." Thomas nodded. "Empress, bodyguard, with me."

Daud took them into the room, up onto ledges and chandeliers, past an Overseer staring at a map, down some stairs and into a dim, stone corridor where they finally fetch up in front of a bust of Holger. Daud looked it over before pressing the right eye, causing a piece of the wall to slide up into the ceiling. Jessamine raised an eyebrow at the penny novel drama of it all.

"Over here," Daud gestured them over to a spot behind the crates. With a quick slash of his sword, he cut two scraps of fabric from the thick velvet drapes.

"Cover your face in case Curnow calls for the Overseers before we can stop him," he said gruffly, offering Jessamine and Corvo the makeshift masks without looking at them. Jessamine took one and tied it on as Corvo did the same. Then they settled in to wait.

Daud flicked his wrist, unfolding a small crossbow and loading with a dart from his bandoleer. Corvo watched.

"The ammunition is different than that of a standard crossbow," he commented, eyeing the wristbow.

"Has to be," Daud grunted. "It has to fit the smaller bow."

"It won't have nearly as much effect."

"Size doesn't matter when you use it properly. I have years on you, bodyguard. I know what I'm doing."

"Yes, I'm sure your age is a factor. Can you even still aim that."

"I'm certain I have far better technique than a pup like you."

Jessamine covered her mouth to stifle some very inappropriate giggles. Corvo stared at her quizzically, but Daud's ears were turning red. Thankfully, she was saved from having to explain by the sounds of the secret passage opening again.

"I prefer the early work," Campbell was saying. "Something primal in there, the way the brushwork slashes across the canvas." Curnow shrugged off the comment, saying he was never one for art. As Campbell strode past their hiding spot, Daud's arm whipped up and he shot the High Overseer neatly in the throat. Campbell toppled over like a felled tree, and Curnow jumped.

"What is the meaning of this?" Curnow demanded. Corvo stepped out from the shadows behind the crates.

"Curnow," he greeted cordially. The Captain spluttered.

"A-Attano? What in the name of the Void are you doing here?"

"Saving your life," Corvo explained. " _This_ -" Corvo aimed a kick at Campbell's ribs, "-piece of rat scum is one of the conspirators that killed Lady Emily. He was also going to kill you. When I'm done, you won't have to worry about the Abbey's interference with your investigation again."

Curnow rubbed his face with a hand. "I knew I was getting close, but to try this? You have my thanks, Attano. I'll keep your involvement in this little clusterfuck quiet."

Corvo nodded his thanks and Geoff Curnow strode off up the stairs. Seconds later, a Whaler appeared holding a brand. Jessamine was honestly quite impressed with his stealth, whichever one he was. The masks and bulky outfits made it very difficult to pick out differences.

"Got your brand," the Whaler said, thus identifying himself as Gerome. "Doesn't need to be heated or anythin'. 'S got some kind of chemical on it that'll do the branding." Daud held out his hand for it, but Jessamine stepped forward and took it from the Whaler.

"I think this act of vengence belongs to me," she told the assassin coldly. Jessamine nodded to Corvo. Her Lord Protector shifted to pin down the High Overseer's head and upper body with a grim smile. At his quiet "Go," she pressed the brand to Campbell's cheek. Campbell jerked in Corvo's grip, spasming at the pain before falling limp again. When Jessamine removed the brand, she noted with vicious satisfaction that three lines now slashed down his skin.

"We'll leave him here," Jessamine said, her lip curling with disgust at the man at her feet. "He's left more than enough evidence of wrongdoing even without the brand."

Daud was staring at Campbell, face pale. He looked deeply unsettled by what had happened.

"Well?" Jessamine prompted. "Where are we leaving from?"

"I-" Daud started, before dragging his eyes from Campbell's brand. "We'll regroup back at the safehouse."

Corvo pocketed Campbell's book, and they set off to retrace their steps. A short while later, Jessamine, Corvo, Daud and the other two Whalers were peering at the Campbell's journal.

"Code?!" Gerome growled, tugging off his mask to peer closer. "Of-fucking-course it's in code. Void."

Jessamine took the journal. "Give me an hour with it and I'll have it all transcribed and done." At Thomas's startled look, she smiled. "Father and I liked to test each other with ciphers. This one is incredibly simple, and very common. You just take the standard Tyvian alphabet and fold it in half. Then the top letter is replaced with the lower one, and vice versa.

"Right. Simple," Gerome said, wryly. Jessamine ignored him and walked over to the writing desk. She pulled a pen from her pocket and some folded sheets of paper and quickly got to work. She was vaguely aware of Corvo taking up his usual spot behind her, and Gerome exasperatedly saying, "Fuckin'... Really?" and getting smacked upside the head by Thomas. She ignored Daud watching her work with an inscrutable expression on his face. Within an hour, she had the majority of the book copied.

Rolling her neck to ease the ache, Jessamine stood and handed it back to Daud. "I've written the most salient points down. You can take it back to Overseer Martin. I assume we're taking the boat back?"

"You are, Empress," Daud corrected, tucking the book into some inner pocket. "We still need to get this to the dead drop. Thomas-"

"I'll escort the empress back," Gerome interrupted. When Daud scowled at him, he just flashed a cheeky grin. "Dunwall Tower has some nice art, boss."

"You stole the Sokolov painting, didn't you?" Daud asked, pinching the bridge of his nose.

"Good art is wasted on those rat shits," Gerome said airily. Daud sighed, and waved a hand.

"If the empress doesn't mind," he grumbled. Jessamine smiled.

"Of course not. You're welcome to escort us, Gerome." Jessamine pretended not to notice Gerome flipping off Thomas behind his back.

***

"So you like art?" Jessamine asked, as they piloted the boat back towards the Tower. Gerome nodded. He'd put the mask back on, "in case some fuck sees us," he'd explained. 

"Yeah, but not just Sokolovs. I like the older Serkonan shit, too. St. Bassien, Trombeau, Hyacinth, they got some good stuff. I used to sneak into the theatre as a kid, too."

Jessamine blinked at the Whaler's back. "You're quite well-learned," she said. Gerome chuckled wryly.

"For someone who talks like some back-alley thug?" Gerome snorted. "Yeah, well. I got layers."

Jessamine smiled. "I can see that," she informed him. "Would you like a pass to the Imperial Art Gallery?"

Gerome whipped around to stare at her, and Corvo choked on nothing beside her. Jessamine held up a hand. "Yes, I am serious. My schedule is quite full throughout the day, but I can have the guards leave the building for a private showing at night. You only need to show up _not_ in your Whaler outfit. Have we a deal?"

Gerome steered to boat to the cliffside near the water lock and shut off the engine. "You got yourself a deal, majesty." He bowed as deep as he could from where he sat on the bench. Jessamine smiled back, bade him farewell and made her way up the cliffside.

She could hear Corvo fuming behind her as they made their way to her quarters. But his lecture was cut off as they entered her room to find the Outsider lounging on her bed, reading one of her old history textbooks and making annotations.

Jessamine and Corvo stared.

"When I built that shrine in my hidden storeroom," Jessamine said, dryly, "I wasn't expecting to find a god in my bed." Corvo's head whipped around to her.

"...What."

"She built me a shrine to make it easier for us to converse, dear Corvo," the Outsider told him, without looking up from the book. "Do try to keep up."

"...What."

Jessamine laughed and kissed his dumbfounded face. "Darling, I've been talking to him for weeks now." She smiled and walked over to where the Outsider was sprawled. "I've been giving him books."

Corvo covered his face with his hands. "Please tell me you weren't giving a heretical god your old penny romances."

"I especially liked the ones about Daud," the Outsider said, smirking faintly. "I believe I'll bring them to his attention." There was a muffled groan from Corvo's direction.

Jessamine sat down next to the Outsider, peering over his shoulder at the book. The book was covered in strange, spiky markings.

"What language is that?" Jessamine asked. "I can't read it."

The pen froze mid-stroke. The Outsider frowned at it, betrayed. "I forgot about the language shift," he muttered.

Jessamine burst out laughing. It was a good laugh, from deep in her belly. She hadn't laughed like that since before Emily's death. As the Outsider closed the book in disgust, she leaned back against the pillows, tugged off her boots, and gestured for Corvo to join them.

As Corvo tugged his boots off and came to sit cross-legged at the foot of the bed, the Outsider sat up and looked between the two of them. "I'm shocked at you, your majesty. You spared a killer again." He smiled with a hint of sharp teeth. "I find that fascinating. Very rarely has a mortal managed to surprise me so often. And offering the hand of friendship to a cadre of assassins? How unexpected."

"The assassins were tools," Jessamine told him. "While I can hate Daud for what he did, the others are different. They didn't kill my daughter." The god pillowed a cheek on his hand, watching her impassively. "They have a reputation for being loyal to their employers as long as they are being paid, and I intend to keep them in my employment. They're clearly better spies than the ones we are using now."

"Interesting. And you, Corvo? Do you think you could be friends with these men and women?"

Corvo's expression darkened. "No," he growled. "I'll never forget or forgive what they did." Corvo met Jessamine's eyes with his dark ones. "They should be executed. They're too much of a threat to you."

"Corvo..."

"Jess, they're dangerous," Corvo said, urgently. "They killed Emily and I couldn't do anything. I've never been so helpless. This can't happen again."

"It won't, dear heart," Jessamine said, leaning forward to hold his face in her hands. "We have powers now. We can defend ourselves. No one will be able to hurt us again, I swear it."

"Don't make promises you can't keep, Empress," the Outsider chided. Jessamine started. She'd somehow managed to forget he was in the room.

"It will be very interesting to see how you react in the events to come," he murmured, watching her and Corvo with his fathomless eyes. "I'll be watching."

Then he was gone in swirl of shadow. Jessamine sighed.

"So dramatic." She looked back at Corvo. "Wait until we've taken down the last of the conspirators, my love. I promise, I have a plan."

Corvo sighed, and slumped forward until he rested his forehead against hers. "Though I don't agree with your methods, know that I still love you," he whispered. Jessamine smiled and kissed her lover.

"And I, you, Corvo."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Not seen: Gerome reenacting Jessamine's dramatic takedown of the Overseer guarding Martin, and Calla LOSING HER SHIT over it in fannish glory.


	5. In Which Art Is Critiqued, Corvo Gains An Admirer, And A Spymaster Is Ruined

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Corvo is Not Well.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> First of all, a huge thank you to everyone who's commented and kudos'd this fic. You have no idea how much you guys have encouraged me to write. I can't believe I've managed to break 50 kudos!
> 
> Secondly, yes, Munchkin is the gay son who fled his abusive family. He's everyone's little brother, now.

In the morning, the announcement came.

"Attention Dunwall citizens," the announcement blared. "Thaddeus Campbell – formerly High Overseer – is no longer a citizen of Dunwall. He now bears the Heretic’s Brand and by one of the oldest traditions of the Abbey of the Everyman, it is now a minor criminal offense to offer this man aid or housing. In this time of spiritual crisis, the Overseers have initiated the Feast of Painted Kettles until a new High Overseer is chosen.”

Jessamine didn't have to look to see Corvo's satisfied smirk. If she wasn't in a public place, she'd kiss it off of him in victory. As it was, Jessamine leaned close to her Royal Protector and murmured, "One down."

"At least two more to go," Corvo returned. His eyes swept the assembled nobility, as if he could pick out the guilty by sight alone. Jessamine affected demure shock at the news as those in Parliament whispered to each other. Her gaze found Burrows, looking pale and thin, like the white rat he was. The man looked shaken, and Jessamine gloried in his fear.

"How terrible," Jessamine declared, capturing everyone's attention again. "But we must move on. There are still many important matters to discuss regarding the Rat Plague."

Burrows cleared his throat. "The new Walls Of Light Sokolov invented are doing a splendid job keeping the infection contained to the lower districts," he reported. "Lord Attano, surely you agree the increased security it affords is most useful."

Corvo hummed thoughtfully. "It's true the walls help security, but I can think of several ways to make them ineffective, if not outright deadly to those they're meant to protect. I'll speak with Sokolov later to see what we can do to correct the oversights."

"What of the Plague itself," Jessamine prompted. "What progress has been made towards a cure. We should help those infected, not wall them off and hope the Plague solves itself."

One of the Pendletwins, Morgan possibly, gave her an oily smile. "While we appreciate our Empress's kind heart," he condescended, "I doubt _good will_ will cure the common rabble."

Jessamine narrowed her eyes slightly at the slimy little man. "We are not asking for good will. We are asking for a cure. Unless your lordship prefers being the one to clean out his own chamberpot?" Snickers hissed from around the meeting room as the Pendletwin turned a mottled red. His brother clenched his jaw in rage, but said nothing.

She turned her attention from the unfortunate Pendletwin and addressed Captain Curnow. "Have you heard anything of Sokolov's progress?"

Curnow pursed his lips and shook his head. "Beyond the usual eerie noises from his house? Nothing. All we can say is that the man is still alive and crotchety as ever, if your majesty would pardon the phrasing."

Jessamine chuckled. "We've heard far more from Our esteemed father, dear Captain. And what of the progress with the Drapers Ward?"

Captain Curnow cleared his throat awkwardly. "It's currently embroiled in a war between two major gangs known as the Hatters, and the Dead Eels. The Eels would be the river pirates, your majesty. It may be best to wait until they've depleted each other's numbers, then sweep in and catch the remainder in a more weakened state."

Jessamine nodded and agreed. The rest of the meeting carried on for another few hours. By the end, Jessamine was ready to shoot someone, even to just escape the constant bickering. After the last noble filed out, Jessamine leaned back in her chair and rubbed her temples.

"I don't think it was that bad," Corvo teased, leaning forward to pour her a glass of water. "Morgan Pendleton actually raised his eyes above your breasts once, and Lady Parnell derailed the talks about whale oil rationing a mere three times."

Jessamine just groaned and thumped her forehead down onto the table. "I will toss all of them out of the window."

"Promises, promises."

"What's my schedule for after this?" Jessamine asked.

Corvo fished a folded sheet out of his coat. "You have a meeting with the ambassador from Morley, you have to give your official response to the Abbey regarding the branding of Campbell, and you have a stack six centimeters high of paperwork waiting for you in your office."

Jessamine groaned again. "As your Empress, I command you to do the paperwork for me."

Corvo laughed softly. "While I am your Lord Protector, boredom is not dangerous, and so I have no need to protect you from it."

Jessamine thumped him on the shoulder. "Why do I even bother to keep you around?"

Corvo tilted his head to give her a wink and a smirk. "Because I was the prettiest of all the applicants."

Jessamine's laughter echoed throughout the meeting room.

***

Much later, after a long evening of paperwork and meetings, Jessamine and Corvo were walking towards the Imperial Art Gallery. They heard the Whalers before they saw them.

"Would you put that out!"

"Once we're gonna enter, and not a moment before. I'm not gonna ruin the paintings with fuckin' smoke. I ain't some goddamn philistine."

" _It's not the paintings I'm worried about!_ "

"Trust me, Munchkin. Her majesty ain't gonna care about a little smokin' habit."

" _Little?!_ You smoke worse than a factory!"

"You're woundin' me deep in my heart here, kiddo. I'm a sensitive man, you know."

"You have no heart! Just a lump of fried squid!"

Jessamine and Corvo rounded the corner to see two men arguing. One was a gangly, tattooed man smoking a cigarette and grinning down at his companion. The other was far younger looking, probably still in his teenage years, fine-boned and delicate, and very short. The smaller youth was hopping up and down trying to reach the older man's cigarette as he held it just out of reach, taking a drag every so often. Both were dressed in greatcoats.

Jessamine cleared her throat. Both men stopped and turned to look at her, the younger one immediately dipping into a perfect courtier's bow. The elder nodded a greeting to Jessamine.

"Gerome, I presume?" Jessamine asked. The older Whaler flicked an insouciant, two-fingered salute with the hand holding the cigarette. The younger Whaler hissed for him to "stop, Outsider's eyes, what is wrong with you, show some respect, Gerome!"

"The panicky one is Munchkin," Gerome drawled, clearly enjoying his charge's discomfort. "An' I'm takin' him out for his walk. Gonna teach him some culture." 'Munchkin' attempted to elbow Gerome in the ribs, only for the Whaler to eel around his attack with a chuckle. Then, with all the dignity his young frame could muster, he bowed to Jessamine.

"Your majesty," he said, ignoring Gerome rolling his eyes in the background. "My name is Cedric Hallsworth. It's a pleasure to meet you." Then his gaze fell on Corvo and the teen went crimson. "L-l-l-lord P-protano! I-I mean Corv Protector! I mean-" 

Gerome was bent double, cackling as Cedric covered his face and made a high-pitched keening noise. " _Gerome, stop laughing and kill me already_ ," Cedric hissed. He was about as crimson as a human could possibly get without serious injury.

Jessamine, however, was frowning at Cedric. "Hallsworth? As in the Whitecliff Hallsworths?"

Cedric paled, but Gerome stepped up to sling a rough arm around the youth's shoulders.

"Nah," he drawled, meeting Jessamine's eyes with a sharp look. "You're thinkin' of a different group. Munchkin's got no relation to those assholes."

Jessamine nodded. "My apologies, then," she said, remembering the frightened eyes of the youngest Hallsworth. She hadn't heard of the family missing a son, but if what she suspected was true, then she's not surprised they hid their youngest's disappearance. She had never met a more strict, devout, and old-fashioned family. Instantly, Jessamine decided she was going to do whatever she could to make sure this boy was happy.

"Shall we?" Jessamine asked, gesturing at the doors to the gallery. Cedric bowed again, still clinging to the remnants of his dignity as only a teenager could. Gerome took a final drag from his cigarette and flicked it off to the side, causing Cedric to hiss imprecations at him for littering in front of the Empress.

As Corvo unlocked the doors and held them open for Jessamine, she saw Gerome's eyes glow with Void-light, checking the room, ceiling, and walls before walking inside. She supposed that they still had little reason to trust her, despite being in her employ. As they entered, Gerome let out a low whistle at the giant umberwood sculpture of an abyss watcher.

"Damn," he said, "Is that an early Karakot? C'mere, Munchkin. Look at how the chisel marks direct your eyes. That's fuckin' talent, that is. See how she's used the knots in the wood to look like eyes? How she's used the natural shapes of the grain to add details? She's the goddamn pioneer of that technique! You're standin' in front of fuckin' history, pup!"

Jessamine hid a smile at the Whaler's enthusiasm. "I see you know a lot about art, Gerome. How did you learn all this?"

Gerome flashed her a crooked grin. "Oh, you know," he drawled. "Even gutter rats learn shit when they steal enough art. I'd break into houses just to look at their collections. Thought maybe the 'noble airs' would rub off on me if I learned a bit of fuckin' culture."

"You have the culture of a dead whale," Cedric muttered under his breath, before squawking out a protest as Gerome grabbed him in a headlock and knuckled his scalp.

"Respect your fuckin' elders, Munchkin," Gerome growled in mock-outrage. "You're gonna offend Lord Attano. Look at the fuckin' face he's pullin'. Like biting into a Cullero lemon." Jessamine chuckled at their antics as she snuck a look at Corvo's face. He did, in fact, look offended, but Jessamine knew it was because of the rampant swearing and lack of respect Gerome showed her. She elbowed him lightly, trying to encourage him to smile. Corvo rolled his eyes and elbowed her back, making his "I'm on duty and therefore can't make facial expressions like a normal person" face.

Cedric batted his friend away and tried to gather whatever dignity he had left. "I apologise for my friend," he said, in perfect Northern Serkonan, ignoring Gerome's protest at the use of a language he didn't understand. "He is an uneducated ruffian and only knows one way to act around others."

Corvo blinked in surprise. "You have a good friend," he reassured in the same language. "No harm has been done."

Jessamine watched as Cedric's jaw dropped slightly at the way Corvo's voice deepened and rolled in his native language. Jessamine wondered if her lover knew how alluring he sounded when he spoke. She could see its affect on Cedric. The boy was turning a brilliant red and stuttering out a barely-understandable thank-you.

Gerome muttered something under his breath and hauled Cedric away towards the paintings that lined the walls. What followed was an incredibly entertaining, and educational four hours of art history. Corvo was looking increasingly uncomfortable with Cedric's puppy eyes and infatuated blushes. Gerome and Jessamine, meanwhile were becoming fast friends.

"No, see," Gerome was explaining, "you gotta to stay above their heads. People never fuckin' look up. Stay on top of bookshelves and pipes, an' drop down on 'em when they're below you."

Corvo pinched the bridge of his nose. "Please, in the name of all things eternal, _please_ stop giving her ideas." Jessamine laughed at Corvo's beleaguered expression.

"I'm only teaching her shit she'll need to know if she's gonna run with us on more jobs," Gerome retorted, and turned back to Jessamine. "Listen, I'm shit at demonstrating this. You need to get one of the trainers to teach you how to use your powers. I'm gonna ask Daud if we can spare Rulfio or Rinaldo. They're the ones with patience."

Jessamine smiled. "Thank you." Gerome looked distinctly uncomfortable with her gratitude.

"Gerome," Cedric cut in, "Rinaldo's leg got injured, remember? And Rulfio has to stay on the grounds after the tallboy incident."

"Fuck, you're right. Shit." Gerome mulled over the problem for a minute, then brightened. "Come with us, then. We got a training room you can use."

Corvo caught Jessamine before she could answer and tugged her aside. "You can't possibly consider going there," he hissed. "They're _assassins_ , Jess. You might as well just throw yourself onto their blades! I can't let you do this."

Jessamine sighed. "Corvo, they have had ample opportunity to kill me. They could have easily ambushed us here. Trust me, Corvo."

Corvo closed his eyes and sighed. "Fine. But I'm coming with you. If they try anything, I'll kill them all."

Jessamine turned back to the waiting Whalers. "Alright then. Let us go to Rudshore, unless there is more you want to see here?"

Gerome waved a dismissive hand. "Nah, I got it. Oh, but you should know you got a forgery here." He gestured to one of the paintings. "St. Bassien was left-handed. The brushstrokes are slanting the wrong way."

Jessamine blinked. "If you weren't otherwise employed, I'd hire you as the curator for the Gallery."

"If I wasn't 'otherwise employed', I'd've taken you up on that offer."

Jessamine laughed and they began to make their way out of the Imperial Art Gallery. Everything was going smoothly until they were nearly at the water lock.

"Halt! Intruders!"

"Stand down!" Jessamine said, infusing the command with the Void. "We are not here. You saw nothing to alert you." If this didn't work she was going to feel and look very foolish. Thankfully, the guard reacted the same way Corvo had; he slumped with a deadened look on his face.

Cedric edged over and waved a hand in front of the guard's face. When the guard didn't react, he pulled away, murmuring "uncanny".

"Huh," Gerome said, eyeing the frozen guard. "That's a new one."

"So they do vary heavily between people?" Jessamine asked.

"Yeah, Daud sure as the Void can't do that. If he could, we'd be a hell of a lot better behaved."

"You mean _you'd_ be a hell of a lot better behaved," Cedric returned as they transversed to the boat. "I'm still not sure he won't kill you for bringing outsiders to our base."

Gerome rolled his eyes and pulled his mask on. "If he didn't kill me for stealin' his cigs, the boss ain't gonna kill me for this."

***

"Gerome, Master Daud is going to kill you," Thomas snarled, looking like he wanted to shoot the insolent Whaler and be done with it. Gerome just snorted.

"What's done is done," he replied, waving a hand. "Go get Rulf or 'Naldo. I'll take Her Royal Highness to the training rooms."

Thomas groaned. "No. I am not going to become an accomplice to this. This is on you."

Cedric raised a timid hand. "Can I come with you, sir," he asked. "I don't want to be an accomplice either."

"Go gather the pups," Thomas ordered. "I don't want them getting underfoot."

Cedric immediately disappeared. Gerome sighed.

"They probably already know," he drawled. "You know how fast gossip spreads here. Bet you ten coin there's a gaggle of 'em waiting for us already."

"Ugh. No bet." Thomas raked a hand through his hair. "What do they need to learn?"

"She needs better sneakin' moves," Gerome said, nodding at Jessamine. "As for him, fuck if I know." Corvo stiffened in outrage. Thomas just covered his face with a gloved hand and looked incredibly put-upon.

"Alright, Highness," Gerome said. "This way to the training room. I'll grab one of the trainers if we see 'em along the way."

"More likely they will find you," muttered Thomas, darkly.

As Gerome led them through the building, Jessamine got a good look at how dilapidated it was. Several times they had to skirt gaping holes in the floor, or clamber over debris. The smell of mildew and rotting wood hung heavy on the air.

"You must have problems with krusts in such stagnant water," she said to Gerome.

"The boss says they keep us on our toes," the Whaler shrugged. "I think he just likes havin' a punishment detail for the ones who can't cook for shit."

"And how many times have you been put on krust duty?" Jessamine asked with a smile. Gerome shrugged and looked innocent, which did not work on his creased, scarred face.

"Here we ar-" Gerome started, throwing open a door to reveal a spacious room filled with obstacles. It was also filled with children no older than fifteen, and a harangued-looking man leaning on a makeshift crutch. "Fuck."

"Gerome! What in the name of the Void do you think you're doing?!" Jessamine guessed this Whaler was Rinaldo. Meanwhile, Jessamine found herself surrounded by children.

"Are you really the Empress?"

"Have you ever ordered someone's death?"

"Did you really meet the Outsider?"

"Do you eat off of diamond plates, and have a throne of pearls?"

"Who's that?"

"How big is _your_ room? I have to share mine with everyone!"

"Have you been to the other Isles? What are they like?"

Jessamine laughed. "Children, one at a time," she admonished. Then she counted off their questions. "Yes, I am the Empress. Yes, I've met the Outsider, and he is very different from you and I. No, we don't have diamond plates, merely silver and bone, and my throne is just boring old umberwood and cushions. This is Lord Corvo Attano, my Lord Protector. My room is definitely smaller than this one. Yes, I've traveled to all of the Isles, and each one is more different than the last, but I had Imperial duties there and couldn't sightsee."

Before the children could begin babbling more questions, there was the _fwip_ sound of someone transversing into the room. This Whaler was nearly as tall as Corvo, and even darker-skinned. "Alright, to your dorms," he rumbled. "You should have been in bed an hour ago. Get!"

"Yes, Mister Rulfio," they chorus, filing past Jessamine and Corvo.

"Janine, put it back, it doesn't count" Rulfio snapped. One of the older girls looked guilty and handed Corvo back some coin. Apparently she'd slipped it from his coat in the press of small bodies. Corvo, thankfully, looked more impressed than angry. Looking aggrieved, Rulfio herded the kids out of the room.

"Sorry about that," he said to Corvo. "We encourage them to practice, and score them on their abilities. Everyone else knows to be on their guard when the pups are loose."

Corvo shrugged. "It's nothing I haven't done in my youth."

Rinaldo sighed. "Gerome, you better get going before Daud gets here." Gerome smirked and tipped an imaginary hat at him. Then he was gone.

"Alright, my lady," Rinaldo said, "since you're already here, we might as well see what you can do." He gestured for her to join him. "Get from one side of the course to the other without being seen. Once you're there, ring the bell. While you're learning, I'm going to treat you the same way I'd treat any trainee, understand?"

Jessamine nodded and studied the course. There was spotlights positioned randomly along the wall, and their light was blocked by various desks and bookshelves. As Jessamine took position on a marked spot at the beginning of the course, Corvo settled in to watch. At Rinaldo's "Go" she took one step into the shadows provided by a bookshelf and Jumped to the end of the course. She smirked and flicked the hanging bell with a fingernail.

Rulfio laughed. "Forgetting something, brother?"

Rinaldo flipped him off with a grunt. "So you have been Marked," he said. "Right. Return to the beginning of the course and do it again, this time without using your powers." Out of the corner of her eye, Jessamine could see Corvo grinning.

Jessamine Jumped back to the shadows at the beginning of the course and waited for Rinaldo's signal. Then she began. It took her three tries before she got the hang of the quick, darting movements needed to keep low and unnoticed. By her fifth attempt, Jessamine was ringing the bell in just over a minute.

"Very good, my lady," Rinaldo praises. "You've got a talent for stealth. Attano, you're up."

Corvo unfolds from his perch on a desk. He Blinked over to the start and waited for Rinaldo's signal. Jessamine watched avidly to try to see him, but in no time the bell rang. Both Rulfio and Rinaldo looked impressed.

"Looks like the noble Lord Protector has a hidden skill set," Rinaldo mused. Corvo smirked at him.

"I wasn't always a lord," he retorted, returning to his spot at Jessamine's side. Jessamine beamed proudly at her lover.

"Alright," Rulfio began, apparently taking over for Rinaldo. "So you can manage the novice course. How's your pickpocketing?"

And so it went, through grapples, pickpocketing, sneaking up on actual people, and combat. Unsurprisingly, Rinaldo and Rulfio both criticized her form during combat.

"Listen, you're standing too lightly," Rulfio said, grabbing and moving her into a more stable position. "Attano, what the hell? Is this a noble thing?"

Corvo sighed. "Yes, it is. They're trained to fence, not fight."

"And yet people are still shocked that nobles are such easy targets."

Jessamine jumped at hearing a new voice. A shadow detached from the rest and stopped in front of her. Jessamine stood her ground as Daud approached.

"You're a quick learner, I'll give you that, Empress," Daud commented, looking from her feet to her blade, "but you need to let go of the habits you've formed under whatever tutor you were given. You should practice proper forms at the beginning and end of every day. Maybe then you'll stop mincing about and learn to actually fight.

"In the meantime, I have urgent news for you. Burrows has spooked." Jessamine stiffened in alarm. "Yes, I thought that might get your attention. Here; his audiograph holding his confession. For such a paranoid man, he certainly keeps thorough diaries."

"When is he leaving?" Corvo demanded, striding into Daud's space. The assassin didn't flinch.

"Just before dawn. He's booked a spot on a ship to Serkonos using a false name. We need to move now if you want to catch him."

“Let us go, then,” Jessamine said, sheathing her sword. Daud went over to one of the desks and pulled open a drawer.

“You've been exerting yourself,” he cautioned. “Drink this. It's an elixir like Sokolov's, but we find it invigorates us better when it comes overexerting our powers.” He tossed a vial of a blue elixir to her.

Corvo fielded it neatly and drank half. Then he tossed it to Jessamine, who downed the rest. Daud seemed to let their caution pass without comment.

Then he turned to Rinaldo, who was watching the entire exchange with the demeanour of a man who had money on the line.

“You and Rulfio are in charge until Thomas wakes up.”

“Sir, you're not bringing anyone with you?” Rulfio asked, glancing quickly between Daud, Jessamine, and Corvo. Daud didn't turn around.

“No. This is my wrong to right.”

Daud's face might as well have been carved from stone for all the expression Jessamine could read from it. As they walked away, Corvo stalked up to walk beside the assassin.

“What are you planning?” Corvo growled.

Daud chuckled, a dry, mirthless sound. “All I'm planning is to get you and your Empress into position to do whatever you like with Burrows. Whatever happens after is up to her. She's the one buying our services.”

“And I'm sure you'll wait around for us to mete out justice,” Corvo scoffed.

“I'd give you my word, but I doubt it means much to you, bodyguard,” Daud retorted.

Jessamine laid a hand on Corvo's shoulder. “Enough. We have enough to worry about without bickering amongst ourselves. Daud, how long until we reach the Tower?”  
“It's an hour boat ride,” came the reply as they reached a makeshift dock. In it were two boats, the one they had arrived in, and another, slimmer one. It was that one that Daud boarded. Jessamine sat across from him, shifting her sword out of the way. Corvo sat next to her, still watching Daud warily.

Daud's estimate was accurate, and they arrived just as the sky began to lighten with pre-dawn light. It took another half-hour to infiltrate the Tower, Corvo muttering about the security holes the whole way.

Eventually, they reached the Royal Spymaster's room. Setting her jaw, Jessamine strode to the door, drawing her blade and hearing her two shadows do the same.

“Hiram Burrows,” she declared. “You are under arrest for high treason and the murder of my daughter, the Princess Emily Kaldwin.”

Instead of hearing the little weasel squeal in terror, Jessamine heard a distinctly metallic _click_.

Next thing she knew, she was on the floor with her ears ringing, a heavy body pinning her down, and a hot wetness soaking through her blouse. Jessamine pushed at the weight, grunting in effort. There was a scent like roasting meat and burning hair in her nose.

“Daud?” Jessamine blinked down at the assassin as she squirmed out from under him. Daud's back was a charred, bloody mess. She stared as his actions registered. Burrows must have thrown an explosive device, or maybe trapped his room, and Daud had reacted with lightning speed to cover her body with his own. As her ears stopped ringing, another high-pitched noise registered.

“Please, please, no!”

Jessamine looked up at the far wall. There was Burrows, pinned like a bloodfly to a card with both Daud's and Corvo's swords through each shoulder. Corvo himself was standing in front of the ex-spymaster, his face twisted into a rictus of rage and hate. Corvo clenched his left hand, and shadows boiled up around Burrows' feet. In her dazed state, it took Jessamine a few seconds to realize these weren't shadows, but a swarm of rats rising out of nowhere to begin devouring Burrows alive.

By the time the guards arrived, alerted by the explosion and screams, all of the soft parts of Hiram Burrows' body were devoured, and the man in question trying to choke out a scream through a mauled throat. Corvo watched him drown in his own blood with a twisted smile on his face.

One promptly turned away to vomit. The others stared in frozen horror.

“Get this man to my private medical wing,” Jessamine snapped at the guards. “And call Sokolov. I don't care where he is or what he's doing, this man just saved my life, and I intend to repay the favour.”

“Yes, Empress.” The guards snapped off a salute and rushed off to get a stretcher. The remaining two guards, including the faint-hearted one, gingerly approached Corvo.

“L-lord Protector?” The guard quavered. “What...?” He trailed off, looking lost. Corvo turned his head slightly, regarding the poor man impassively.

“Corvo!” Jessamine commanded, filling her voice with the Void. She hated doing this, but he wasn't _doing_ anything, and any minute now more guards will arrive. She couldn't lose him to the Overseers.

Corvo slowly turned to look at her. Jessamine steeled her will and said, "Kill the rats before they escape. We need to prevent the plague from spreading to the Tower."

Corvo reached up and yanked his sword from the ex-spymaster's shoulder. With his usual artful precision, but lacking his trademark grace, he began killing the feasting rats with quick flicks of his blade. Within seconds, they were all dead.

As two guards arrived with a stretcher, Jessamine dredged up more Void-given power. "You saw nothing to think Lord Attano is a heretic. Burrows had smuggled rats into the Tower in an attempt to assassinate me. It backfired and he was consumed by them. He had trapped this room, and this man saved my life when I tried to enter." By the end, Jessamine's head was swimming. She was left panting and exhausted. This must have been what Daud had been talking about when he mentioned overexertion in regards to their powers.

"Your majesty, you should get to the medical wing as well," one of the guards said, looking carefully solicitous. "You might have wounds you can't feel yet. At least let doctor Sokolov treat you and the Lord Protector in case you got bit."

"Yes..." Jessamine murmured. "Yes, that seems wise." She stumbled to her feet, took a deep breath, straightened her shoulders, and strode purposefully to the private room set off of her suite for any medical needs the Empress would have.

"Lord Attano, please accompany me," she ordered, hoping Corvo would follow. He did, walking as if he was automaton, not man. Jessamine bit her lip and forced herself to pretend everything was all right.

When they reached the private medical wing, Daud was gently placed on a table, and Jessamine went to sit on a chair.

"Leave us," she commanded. The guards bowed and left.

As soon as the door clicked shut, Jessamine was in front of Corvo, holding his face in her hands.

"Corvo," Jessamine begged. "Corvo, please. Wake up. Please, love, I need you with me." No reaction. Jessamine squeezed her eyes shut, then reared back and slapped him. She shook out her stinging hand and checked for any kind of response, but Corvo continued to stare blankly through her. Jessamine bit back a sob.

"I didn't want to do this, my love," she said, gritting her teeth, "but nothing else has worked." She filled her command with the Void. "Corvo, _wake up_!"

Searing pain lanced through her skull. Jessamine bit back a cry of agony as she crumpled, a rushing sound filling her ears. She clutched her head in both hands, pressing as if to hold it together. As the pain passed, surging with every heartbeat, she became aware of dots of blood on the white floor and the taste of copper at the back of her throat. Jessamine brushed a hand under her nose. It came away smeared with red. Clearly, that course was not available to her. Honestly, there was only one person left who she trusted with Corvo in this state.

"Void, I hope this works," Jessamine muttered, before tilting her chin up and calling, "Outsider, I need your help."

"You do realise I don't come when called," a deadpan voice drawled behind her. Jessamine whirled.

The Outsider floated an inch above Daud's mangled back, looking as if he'd be sitting on the assassin if it wouldn't end with filthy trousers. The deity braced himself on nothing and hopped down to land lightly on the floor.

"My dear Jessamine," he murmured, stepping close. "Look at the state you're in. Saved by an assassin, brainwashing your own men, using the same on your own lover." He tsked. "Not very noble, my dear."

"Is that what's wrong with him?" Jessamine asked, trying to choke down the knot forming in her throat. Outsider's eyes, what had she done? "Was it me? Did I do this?"

The Outsider left her space to circle around Corvo, like a shark around a drowning man.

"No," he mused. "No, this seems to be an affliction of the mind." The Outsider reached up and lightly tapped Corvo on the forehead. Immediately, Corvo's eyes rolled back and he collapsed into the god's arms. The Outsider gently lowered him to the floor.

"Corvo, Corvo, Corvo," he drawled, the shadows around him swirling like mist in a draft. "What have you been hiding?"

With that, he thrust his hand into Corvo's forehead.

Corvo convulsed violently, but the Outsider seemed to hold him down with ease. Jessamine fought down the urge to pull the god away from her lover and crouched beside him to watch. There was no blood. It looked like the Outsider's hand was less real than Corvo. Or perhaps the reverse.

"Ah," the Outsider sighed, and pulled something dark and squirming out of Corvo. Morbidly curious, Jessamine began to lean forward to look, only to have a cool, pale hand cover her eyes. "Don't look, my dear. They have a tendency to spread." A thumb pressed gently against her temple, and Jessamine shivered.

"What is it?" she asked. The Outsider just hummed and Jessamine felt something touch her mind. It was cold, gentle, and indescribably _alien_.

"Outsider?" The presence, and it had to be the god, delicately darted though her mind, from what felt like the base of her skull to the backs of her eyes. Then it was gone, the hand lifted from her eyes, revealing the Outsider licking his fingers clean of shadows.

"Think of them as leeches," the god told her. "They live as thoughts in the Void, and intensify and feed off of negative emotions. I've lost Marked ones to them before. One is generally enough to drive them mad. Dear Corvo had three."

Jessamine looked from Corvo to the Outsider in horror. "Those things were inside us?"

"Well," the Outsider mused, cocking his head. "Inside Corvo. You are strangely free of them. My dear Jessamine, you do fascinate me."

"I-" Jessamine broke off, looking down at Corvo who was shivering, sweating and pale. "I thank you. I truly appreciate what you've done for us. Thank you. Is there anything I can do to repay you?"

"And you surprise me again." The Outsider smiled, a bare quirk of his lips. "Think of this as repayment for the books. I look forward to seeing what you do next, Jessamine Kaldwin." The Outsider leaned forward, brushed cool, dry lips against her forehead, and disappeared. As soon as the last wisps of Void faded away, the door slammed open, admitting an incredibly frazzled Anton Sokolov.

"My girl, are you all right? What happened to Corvo? Who is-" Sokolov made an odd choking noise. " _Is that Daud?!_ "

"Yes," Jessamine said, feeling the ghost of pale lips on her skin. "There is a lot to tell you, my friend."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> 15k and i'm finally getting this damn ship underway. Did you know this was going to be a one-shot? Because this was going to be a one-shot.
> 
> *muffled sobbing*


	6. In Which There Are Negotiations and Dancing

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> For Drea, who is sick as a parrot.
> 
> Yes, I headcanon Daud and Sokolov being bros. Honestly, I can't imagine Daud sitting (or standing as the case may be) for a portrait for a complete stranger. Nor would he do it for someone he hates. I imagine those two got drunk and yelled academic theories at each other many a night.

"How is he?" Jessamine asked, sipping tea and watching Anton fuss over Daud.

"He'll be lucky to walk without pain," Sokolov grumbled. "Damn fool always had to be the dramatic one."

"You- _ugh!_ \- You were the dramatic one," Daud grunted, his face lined with pain.

"Shut up." Anton pressed a hand to Daud's undamaged shoulder. Most of the damage seemed to have come from shrapnel, with much of the bleeding getting cauterized by burns. Daud's lower back, rear and legs had taken the brunt of the explosion. Daud subsided, looking like he'd very much want to return to unconsciousness now.

"So you've met Him," Anton said, focussing on his work. Jessamine could hear the capitalization and subtle awe. It was becoming obvious why the Outsider refused to acknowledge Anton. He had made it clear to Jessamine he was not one for awe and worship.

"Yes," she confirmed, "and he's even more dramatic than the two of you, together."

Anton glanced up at her in surprise, before chuckling and returning to his work. "I imagine it would be a characteristic of gods."

Jessamine smiled, wearily. "Well, I've only met the one, and have no desire to meet any others," she declared, firmly. "One is quite enough for me."

Anton chuckled. "I seem to remember a young girl who declared, in front of the High Overseer of the time, that she would personally fight the Outsider to keep her people safe."

Jessamine hid a flush behind her teacup. She could see Daud's back quiver with repressed laughter. "I was ten, Anton," Jessamine said with the utmost dignity. "At that age, I would have fought anything. I also wanted to be a pirate queen and eat Serkonan chocolate every day. You'll notice I am not doing that either."

"Well, I daresay you'd have made an excellent pirate queen," Anton soothed.

"If you're still interested," Daud drawled, "you should talk to Calla. She was one before she was one of mine."

Jessamine grinned. "Don't tell Corvo, then. He'll try to keep us apart before she can give me advice."

"Enough chatter from you," Anton said, irritably. "I need your back as still as possible."

"So, Anton," Jessamine began, filled with curiosity. "How do you know Daud?"

Daud groaned on the table, but Anton chuckled delightedly.

"You may think he's a mere assassin," he confided, "but Daud was actually a student at the Academy over the course of a winter. We met when he argued Void-theory with me. We then got into a brawl, broke a pub, and vandalized the dean's office."

"Really," Jessamine asked, tickled by the image of the two of them.

"Oh yes. We were inseparable afterwards, up until he left. Dramatically. With no note. Because he is dramatic." Daud made a disagreeing noise, and Anton glared at him. "You were! 

"As it is, I've done all I can for now," Anton said, stripping off his gloves and backing away. "Daud, I know you won't listen, but do try to stay lying down. If you pull your stitches or get your burns infected, it'll be a repeat of the Fugue aftermath. Don't make me bring out the vodka."

Daud winced. "I'll be sure to be the perfect patient, then," he said dryly.

"The only time you've been a perfect patient, my friend, was when you were unconscious."

"Hmph."

"Jessamine, my dear, it was good to see you again," Anton said, walking over to kiss her on each cheek. "It's good to see you smile again." Jessamine pulled her friend into a brief embrace, murmuring her thanks. Anton packed up his medical supplies, and left.

"So, what now?" Daud asked.

"Hm?" Jessamine hummed, checking on Corvo, who appeared to still be unconscious. She hoped he'd wake up soon. She missed his solid presence and gentle kisses, and prayed there wasn't any permanent damage to his mind. The Outsider hadn't seemed to think there would be, but it's best not to take chances.

"Burrows is dead, Campbell is disgraced. We don't have any leads on who the financial backer was, and nothing to prove the older Pendletons were part of this conspiracy. All they're guilty of is being shitty employers and some light smuggling. That's barely a smack on the wrist for nobles like them."

"We'll see," Jessamine said, taking a seat in a chair near Daud's head. "I want to see if Burrows' death will spook them. I was going to have the information extracted from Burrows, but now that he's dead, we'll have to find another use for him."

"And what about me?" Daud asked. "I assume a simple execution is out, since you're clearly trying to keep me alive, so I suppose you're going to make a show of it with a trial."

"No."

"Pardon?" Daud squinted at her suspiciously.

"Daud, being Empress, I cannot let emotions rule my judgement. So, while I can never forgive you for killing my child, I know your men are the best network of spies we've ever had. They're also incredibly loyal to you. Therefore, killing or imprisoning you would mean the loss of a powerful tool for the Empire."

"You have got to be kidding me," Daud said, staring at her.

"I am not. I will write up an official pardon for you and your men, for unspecified past crimes. I will also offer the position of unofficial spymaster to Thomas. Officially, it'll be some noble buffoon who's been elected just to curry favour, but I want Thomas and your men to work for me. They'll have an entire wing of the Tower to live in, including the children, as well as the standard wages for all agents of the Empire. Once you are healed, you may do as you like. Consider your debt to me repaid."

Jessamine stood, nodded to a speechless Daud, and strode to the door. Before she reached it, a raspy voice called her to wait.

"Your bodyguard isn't able to protect you for now," Daud said, staring at the wall. "Here. I'll have one of my men stand watch over you today." He shifted with a grunt of pain, and pointed at a corner of the room. Instantly, an assassin appeared.

"You're to guard the Empress," Daud ordered. "When the Lord Protector wakes up, I'll send him to relieve you. When that happens, you are to go Thomas and tell him the Empress wishes to speak with him. Understood?"

The Whaler bowed and marched over to Jessamine. "Your Majesty," he said in a deep, basso rumble.

"I don't believe we've met yet," Jessamine said. This Whaler was a huge wall of a man. Taller than even Corvo, he was heavily built. "What is your name?"

"Brannon, your Majesty." Despite his size, or perhaps because of it, the Whaler was soft-spoken.

"Brannon, today I am holding an audience with petitioners. There's candelabra and ledges you can hide on that afford a full view of the room. I will, however require you to go unmasked. The Empress of the Isles cannot be connected to a mercenary group."

Brannon looked to Daud for confirmation, and at his nod, unclasped his mask. Underneath was a handsome Serkonan who's face was pitted with what looked like tiny burn marks. The spacing looked far too even to be accidental.

"Thank you. Now, if you'll follow me, I am short on time to reach the audience chamber." With that, Jessamine swept out of the room and walked briskly to the audience chamber.

What followed was several agonising hours of people demanding her time. Most requests were inane or unreasonable. Some were heartbreaking. One man requested his home be given back, as he and his children had nowhere to go and weepers and rats were hunting the streets. Jessamine told him the various Abbey buildings had housing for refugees, but he said he'd been turned away. They were full. Jessamine reassured him that efforts were underway to reclaim parts of the city that had succumbed to the plague, and that he shouldn't lose hope. In the meantime, there was nothing she could do.

After that was nobles bickering over estate lines. Then nobles bickering over inheritance. Then nobles trying to bicker with the Abbey for confiscating their city houses. By the time they broke for lunch, Jessamine was ready to shoot them all and be done with it.

"I am ready to shoot them all and be done with it," Jessamine told Brannon as they retired to her office. A small mountain of paperwork waited for her at her desk.

"Yes, your Majesty," Brannon said, keeping his eyes lowered.

The door to the office opened half an hour into the paperwork. Corvo walked in, looking sober. As soon he appeared, Jessamine noticed an immediate change in her temporary guard. His shoulders drew in, he slouched slightly, trying to look smaller, and beneath his tan complexion he paled.

"Thank you, Brannon," she said, "you may go." The Whaler dipped in a jerky bow before disappearing in a rush of air.

Corvo blinked at the vanished Whaler, before very obviously shaking it off and moving to stand behind Jessamine.

"What happened," he asked in a low voice. Jessamine told him what the Outsider said. Corvo looked sick.

"That's..." He trailed off, looking faintly green. "I can't believe I had those inside me. I can't believe what I did."

"It's not your fault, Corvo," Jessamine reassured him. "The Outsider told me it was amazing you survived with your sanity intact. I think you've impressed him."

"That is the last thing I want," Corvo groaned. "And that assassin, he saved your life?"

"You mean Daud? Yes, that's how he got his injuries."

Corvo grimaced. "I suppose that slightly makes up for what he's done. Are you really going to offer them the job of spymaster?" He looked dubious at the prospect.

"Corvo, they've been ten times more useful than Burrows ever was. I'm going to need to appoint some noble's son or daughter to the job, but I want someone to keep an eye on everything, and the Whalers have been more than competent. I will not have a repeat of this spring's coup." Corvo closed his eyes wearily, and nodded.

Nearly an hour passed of comfortable silence before Corvo lightly touched her shoulder. Jessamine put the proposal for more efficient whaling ships aside and smiled a greeting to the new arrival.

"Thomas," she greeted. "Take a seat." The Whaler bowed and sat in one of the chairs facing her desk, unclasping his mask as he went.

"Pardon my abruptness, your Majesty," Thomas said, a hard expression on his face. "Where is Master Daud?"

"I see you weren't told," Jessamine began. "He was badly hurt when we tried to apprehend Burrows. The former spymaster had booby-trapped his room, and Daud used his body to shield me from a grenade. I've had Anton Sokolov attend to his wounds, and he is expected to pull through. He's in the private medical room just off of my rooms, if you wish to see him."

Thomas looked slightly bewildered. He was clearly expecting the same thing Daud had been. Jessamine wondered if he had plans to help his people flee, or if there was a rescue party searching for their leader.

"I- later, thank you," Thomas said. "I was told you wanted to speak with me?"

Jessamine smiled and slid a paper across the desk. Thomas's eyes flicked over the contract, slowly growing wider.

"You can't possibly be serious," he said, staring at her.

Jessamine chuckled. "That's exactly what Daud said. I'll understand if you want to take a bit to think it over. But I promise you there will be no repercussions if you decline."

"And what will happen with Daud?" Thomas asked.

Jessamine sighed. "He's included in the pardon. What he does next is up to him."

Thomas nods. "I need to discuss this with the others," he tells her. "They deserve to have a say in something this big."

"Of course."

Thomas vanished.

"What do you think his answer will be," Corvo asked.

Jessamine smiled. "They'll be back. He wants this to be a genuine offer."

***

The next day, Treavor Pendleton requested an audience.

"Your Majesty," Treavor began. Even from a distance, Jessamine could see his eyes were bloodshot, and his hands were visibly shaking. "I-I-I have information on m-my brothers. I'd like to report them for-for treason." He took a deep breath. "On the eighteenth day of the Month of Earth, my older brothers, Morgan and Custis, colluded with Hiram Burrows and Thaddeus Campbell to assassinate Empress Jessamine Kaldwin and kidnap Lady Emily Kaldwin. I have here correspondence with the, uh, _Madame_ of the Golden Cat, as well as a receipt of payment to keep a young girl hidden amongst the, er, ladies."

Jessamine fought not to grit her teeth. "We assume you have a price in mind for this information?"

"Yes, your Majesty," Treavor said. "If it's at all possible, please ensure their transgressions do not taint the family name too much. I'd much like to try to restore it after their... indiscretions."

Jessamine steepled her fingers and watched the little weasel sweat. "We will give you a chance, Treavor Pendleton. Know that you will be watched, and if you even _hint_ at lawlessness, we will strip you of your titles and make your disgrace known to all."

Treavor gulped audibly. Jessamine gestured for one of her attendants to take the papers out of his clammy grasp. "Bring that to Captain Curnow. He will be in charge of the arrest and incarceration."

"Yes, your Majesty."

"You are dismissed," Jessamine told Treavor, knowing she sounded icily dignified. She watched the weasel bow impeccably and shuffle out. There seemed to be a hint of a sway to his step. Jessamine supposed the fermented apple never did fall far from the tree.

Once Treavor left, she waited for news that the Watch had apprehended the Pendletwins. She also got a visitor from the Abbey. Apparently the Feast of Painted Kettles was complete. This meant the new High Overseer was going to pass through the streets, reciting the Scriptures and vowing to serve the people. She assumed their usual route would have to be changed due to plague. Jessamine moved to the throne room to greet the new High Overseer and formally congratulate him on his office.

When the procession arrived in the throne room, accompanied by wolfhounds, Vice Overseers and lesser Overseers, Jessamine was unsurprised to see Teague Martin at the head. He strode to the steps leading to her throne and knelt.

"Your name, High Overseer?" Jessamine had twelve years of practice hiding her emotions. She let no recognition show on her face.

"Teague Martin, your Majesty."

"High Overseer Teague Martin, do you swear to serve the people of the Isles, highborn and low-, young and old, sick and hale?"

"Yes, your Majesty."

"Do you swear to renounce worldly goods and commit yourself, body, heart and soul to the betterment of the spiritual health of the Empire?

"Yes, your Majesty."

"We hereby recognise Teague Martin as High Overseer of the Abbey of the Everyman. May his guidance be clear and his path unhindered." Jessamine took his hands and Teague rose to his feet as everyone bowed. Just before he turned, while his face was still hidden from the crowd, he flashed Jessamine a wry grin as if to say "Look at us, heretic Empress and corrupt Overseer, hand in hand".

Jessamine watched the procession leave, studying the man. Martin would be a very dangerous enemy. The man clearly had enough political savvy to be able to blackmail his way into the rank of High Overseer, and not get assassinated or caught by some "heresy" or another.

It took a while for the procession of Overseers and interested nobility to leave. By the time they left, there were only a scattering of attendants and maids cleaning the detritus that came from any large gathering of people. Or so Jessamine thought until she saw a handsome young man flanked by a scarred up smoker and another who appeared to be barely out of adolescence.

"Your Ma-"

Before Thomas could even finish, Gerome grinned around his cigarette and threw open his arms. 

"Empress," he crowed. Thomas looked like he was contemplating homicide, and Cedric looked like he was about to faint, but Jessamine laughed.

"Hello, Gerome," she said, grinning at his enthusiasm. "Are genuinely this happy to see me, or are you just needling Thomas?"

"I can fuckin' multitask, can't I?" Gerome said through a lupine grin.

"Of course," Jessamine replied, smiling herself. Then she directed her attention to an irritable Thomas. "Let us go to my office. We can talk there without worrying about eavesdroppers."

As they piled into the elevator, Jessamine heard Cedric mumble a greeting to Corvo. He even managed to get through almost an entire sentence without stumbling.

"How is everyone?" Jessamine asked Thomas.

"Calla, Rulfio and Rinaldo are staying with the pups, so take from that what you will," Thomas said. "Rinaldo's leg is healing fine, and his brother has already tried to get him to go on patrol."

"That's good to hear," Jessamine said. They entered her office and she went to take a seat at her desk. "Please sit. Would you like anything? Coffee? Tea?"

"No, thank you," Thomas said. He sat in one of the chairs across from her, and Cedric sat beside him. Gerome leaned against the wall, jovial air gone and instead watched the proceedings intently.

"Cedric, go ahead," Thomas ordered. Jessamine watched as the teenager seemed to transform. Sitting straight-backed in his chair, Cedric pulled the sheaf of papers out of his coat pocket and fanned them out on his lap.

"Your Majesty," he said. "I just need you to clarify a few points. In this contract you state we are to get lodgings on the Tower grounds?"

"Yes," Jessamine answered. "There's an entire section of barracks that have been deserted for quite some time. They were built to house extra soldiers during the Morley Insurrection. They have, of course, been maintained."

"That's good to hear. What about the pardon? It states here that we are given a one-year probationary period, during which the pardon is conditional on good behaviour?"

"Yes," Jessamine answered. "We are not a fool. While generous, We don't want that generosity abused so that you can continue taking contracts out and killing. This contract is contingent on you taking a non-lethal approach only."

"I see," Cedric said. Then he looked to Thomas. "Sir?"

Thomas nodded. "Your Majesty? You have a deal."

Jessamine smiled at him. She reached over and pressed a button on her desk, summoning an attendant from outside.

"Amelie," Jessamine said to the attendant. "Please show these gentlemen to their new quarters in the Old Barracks on the second floor." She pretended not to notice Gerome snort at being called a 'gentleman'.

As the Whalers left, Corvo leaned forward.

"Congratulations, Jess, on your new gaggle of assassins."

Jessamine laughed and rubbed her temples. "I hate negotiations," she informed him.

"That's a shame," Corvo teased. "You have three more disputes between nobles to settle, and two lords who want to see you."

Jessamine thumped her head on her desk with a groan.

*

When the tedious work had been complete, and night had fallen, Jessamine in a chair on the balcony outside her rooms. She sipped whiskey as she watched the moon rise over the Wrenhaven. In the distance, she could faintly hear a fiddle playing a sprightly Morlish jig. She wondered if it was one of the Whalers playing. Calla, perhaps. She looked like a lady who loved a good jig.

Corvo had gone to talk with Captain Curnow about the new additions to the staff. Jessamine wondered how exactly he was going to explain the Whalers. Spies were useless if everyone knew they were spies.

"Enjoying the view," a monotone voice asked. Jessamine jumped, nearly spilling her whiskey all over her clothes.

"You really shouldn't sneak up on people like that," she chided the Outsider. The god was perched on the stone railing, looking out at the sea. The Outsider didn't seem to notice her.

"This is a very old song," he said. Jessamine went to join him, leaning on the railing next to the god.

"Is it? It's still quite popular to dance to." Jessamine pillowed her cheek on a palm as she peered up at the Outsider.

"I doubt the dance is the same," the Outsider drawled, tilting his head back and looking at her from the corner of his eye. "Morlish dances are better with large groups." He tilted a sly glance at her glass. "And the dancers are generally quite inebriated."

Jessamine rolled her eyes. "I am quite sober, I assure you," she retorted. "What dances do you prefer?"

The Outsider vanished in his swirl of Void and shadow. Jessamine looked around. It wasn't until she peered inside that she found him poking through her audiograph collection. 

The Outsider slid one card after another in, playing the music for a second or two before stopping and ejecting the card. Finally, he seemed to find the card he was looking for. As music began to play, he turned to her and bowed, holding out a hand. Jessamine took it, and he tugged close. She could feel the cool tongues of the shadows he's always wreathed in licking around her bare feet. Without shoes, she was just an inch shorter than he was. He grinned at Jessamine, and for a second, there seemed to be far too many teeth in his mouth, needle-like and silver.

The music swelled, and the two swept around the clear space in her bedroom. Jessamine shivered at the inhuman strength the god had; he lifted her like she weighed nothing. He spun her outwards, and Jessamine saw the Void crystals whirl after her. He reeled her back in, and the shadows reached out to embrace her return. She wanted to laugh in delight, but she was quickly growing breathless at the quick pace. As the song reached its climax, he whirled her around him before clasping her by the hips and lifting her above his head. This time Jessamine did laugh, delighted and tingling at his inhuman strength. He lowered her to her feet, pulling her close to his body before dipping her until her back was nearly parallel to the ground as the music slowed to the final notes. His bottomless black eyes met and held her green ones. They froze, Jessamine breathless, with her back arched over his arm, and the Outsider leaning over her and watching her with his predator's gaze.

Then the audiograph clicked, ending the moment. The Outsider set Jessamine back on her feet, gently brushing a loose lock of hair back behind her ear. Jessamine shook herself out of her daze and smiled at the god.

"Thank you," she panted, "for a lovely dance."

The Outsider tilted his head like a curious bird.

"It was... Interesting, Jessamine Kaldwin," the Outsider said. Jessamine flashed him another smile and sat on her bed. She began to fuss at the pins holding her hair up.

There was a quiet huff of air, and Jessamine felt the bed dip behind her. Cool fingers brushed against her nape. One by one, the irritating pins were gently tugged free and placed beside her on the bed. Jessamine sighed in relief and let her head slump forward. The Outsider chuckled softly and slid forward so his knees bracketed her thighs. As her hair unwound, he ran his fingers through it, combing out any snarls. Jessamine swallowed a moan as his blunt nails scraped lightly against her irritated scalp.

"Loose or braided," the Outsider asked.

"Braided loosely, please," she replied. Once again, those long fingers slid into her hair and began deftly separating strands. Jessamine relaxed into the gentle tug-and-slide. It felt like he was giving her quite a complicated braid.

"I've done this before," the Outsider said. For a moment, he sounded lost. "A very long time ago."

"Who was it?" Jessamine asked. The Outsider was quiet for a long time.

"...It doesn't matter. They are long dead."

"Tie," he prompted, holding a hand out. Jessamine leaned slowly to her nightstand, letting him move with her, and pulled one of her hair ties out from a drawer. She placed it in his hand, and it disappeared behind her. Moments later, the braid was draped over her shoulder. For a second, she thought she felt his cool, dry lips brush against her nape, but when she turned around, he was gone.

"Mm," the Outsider hummed. He was perched on her dressing table, one leg folded and his forearm resting on his knee. "It's a good look on you."

Jessamine stood up and peered around his skinny frame to look at her reflection. Her hair was done up with two thin braids on either side of her head joining up with a third thicker one at her nape.

"It's wonderful," she assured the god. "If you decide to give up floating about the Void and criticizing history books, I will happily appoint you as my Imperial Hairstylist."

The Outsider's thin lips quirked in a smile. "I am honoured," he said, dryly.

Jessamine leaned up to give him a peck on the cheek, hesitating just for a moment to see if he'd draw away. When he didn't she lightly brushed them over his cheekbone.

"Now what about your hair," she teased. Jessamine reached up to run her fingers through his short locks. "I may not be able to braid very well, but I'm sure you'd look lovely with some of my clips in your hair."

"Perhaps another time," the Outsider replied, catching her wrist gently in an immovable grip.

Suddenly he went inhumanly still, before his head whipped around to stare wide-eyed at the wall. A strangled noise escaped his throat. The Outsider began visibly breathing, harsh, heaving breaths as if he was suddenly remembering air was necessary. He turned back to Jessamine, and she tried to step back from the fear in his face.

"Listen to me carefully, Jessamine Kaldwin," he said, urgent and low. "You must find an old woman who goes by the name Granny Rags. _Find her_ and _kill her_."

"Why? What's ha-"

" _I don't have time to argue!_ You need to stop her. She's going to-"

And with a harsh _snap_ the Outsider was gone.

"Outsider?" Jessamine looked around for her friend, but he didn't show up. She ran to the hidden room, twisting the torch and pressing on the hidden panel until it clicked and slid aside. Jessamine rushed to the shrine. Then she jerked to a stop, feeling dizzy with horror and fear.

The runes were dead.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Don't worry, Jess is going to talk to Corvo before actually pursuing a relationship with the Outsider as well.


	7. In Which A God Falls

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> It's little surprise that quests given by gods are not easy.

Jessamine sprinted through the halls, ignoring the stares from maids and guards. She met Corvo rushing back from his meeting.

“Corvo,” she gasped. “Corvo, he's gone!”

“I know, I felt it,” Corvo replied, just as urgently. “The Mark burned.”

Jessamine hadn't noticed the pain in her drive to find out what had happened to the Outsider. She had to ask someone if this sort of thing had happened before. There was only one person she knew with the Mark who had been in contact with the god long before she even considered him.

Jessamine turned on her heel and strode back to her quarters, Corvo at her heel. She had an assassin to confront.

“Daud,” she called, slamming open the door to the medical room. Jessamine drew up short when she realised the bed Daud had been recovering in was vacant.

“Oh, _honestly_ ,” Jessamine said, exasperated.

Corvo's eyes flared with Void-light to search the room. Suddenly he flinched and raised a hand to his eyes.

“It seems something has certainly gone wrong our connection to the Void,” he gritted out through clenched teeth. “Jess, try Blinking.”

Jessamine forced herself to concentrate and Jumped from one side of the room to another. She immediately fought not to cry out as pain rippled along her skin, her Mark burning like acid.

“You're right, my dear,” Jessamine growled, rubbing at her arms where phantom pains still flickered. “It seems we can't use our abilities anymore. Not unless we want to suffer.”

“Do you remember if he said anything to you,” Corvo asked. “Anything that could help us find out what happened?”

“He mentioned a woman called 'Granny Rags',” Jessamine said. “Does that name sound familiar to you?”

Corvo frowned, then shook his head. “Since it appears Daud has run off,” Corvo said, lip curling faintly in a scowl, “we should ask Thomas if he knows the name. Maybe the Whalers have had contact with this Granny Rags.”

Jessamine went to sweep out of the room, but Corvo caught her arm. “Perhaps you should get dressed before you scandalize the rest of the Tower staff, hm?”

Jessamine glanced down at herself. She was still dressed in her thin sleeping clothes. Oddly enough, it never occurred to her to be self-conscious when the Outsider had visited. Jessamine slipped back into her rooms and threw on a warm pair of trousers and buttoned up her top. She turned to Corvo.

“There,” she said, spreading her arms. “Am I presentable?”

Corvo pressed a kiss to her lips. “You're beautiful as always. Though-” he ran the back on one hand over her hair “-when did you get your hair styled like this? It suits you.”

“The Outsider did it just a short while ago,” Jessamine answered, walking out the door. Corvo caught up in a few quick strides. Jessamine glanced at his face to judge his expression. While they were both each others' loves, they had the agreement that they could always pursue other prospects as long as they stayed first in each others' hearts.

Corvo just looked mildly pained. “Jess, please tell me you're not seducing a heretical god.”

Jessamine grinned. “Well, we did agree to not lie to each other.”

Corvo sighed, pretending to be aggrieved as they stepped into the elevator. Jessamine turned to look him in the eye.

“Does it bother you,” she asked. “If you're uncomfortable-”

“No, actually,” Corvo interrupted. “He's... Already spoken to me about it.”

“Really,” Jessamine asked, delighted. She would have paid good money to see Corvo's face when that was brought up. Even now, her Lord Protector was blushing.

The elevator pinged, the doors opening to deposit them onto the Whaler's floor. Jessamine could hear the fiddle playing in faintly in the distance, accompanied by raucous laughter. They walked towards the sound.

Jessamine rapped on the door leading to the Old Barracks' common room. Then she knocked a little harder when there was no response. It took a minute, but eventually someone heard her and opened the door.

“Empress!” Gerome looked surprised and pleased to see her. Behind him, she could see Calla playing the fiddle, and Cedric wobbling through what could be a dance, if he had had less to drink. Thomas was reading in a corner, and Brannon was sitting quietly at Calla's feet, swaying slightly to the music. Arrayed around him were three wolfhounds.

At Gerome's shout, Thomas looked up from his book, before marking his page and putting it aside. 

“Do you need anything, your majesty,” Thomas asked.

“Did your Mark not burn a few minutes ago,” Jessamine asked, puzzled.

“No, but our Mark is an imitation. It's from Master Daud sharing his abilities with us. Has something happened?”

“Yes,” Jessamine confirmed, “but not to us. Something has gone terribly wrong with the Outsider.”

***

The adult Whalers sat around one of the long tables in the common area. Cedric had apparently been poured into bed, having been too drunk to participate in a serious conversation. Brannon, too, had been escorted out of the room, whistling for two of the wolfhounds to follow him. The remaining animal sat and watched the proceedings with amiable interest. According to Thomas, the man was an ex-Overseer, and was therefore not comfortable with discussions involving heresy.

Jessamine told the assembled Whalers what had happened, editing out the parts where she and the Outsider had shared certain... intimacies. While they seemed to know she was holding something back, the Whalers didn't press her.

“So, that crazy old bitch has something to do with this,” Gerome mused, ignoring Thomas's irritated glare.

“You do know her, then,” Corvo asked. There were affirmative noises from everyone.

“She's insane,” Thomas said, “but harmless. We knew she was a witch, but her rituals never seemed to do anything. Still, if we helped her with them, she'd give us runes and charms.”

Corvo looked incredulous. “You helped a known witch preform rituals you didn't understand?”

Calla grimaced. “We needed the runes and charms,” she said. “Especially after the Overseers attacked. They stole what they could and destroyed what they couldn't.”

“That's less important now,” Thomas interrupted. “We need to find out where she's hiding. We know Granny Rags moves around the city quite a bit. We've found her in the Old Port District, near Holger Square, and even in middle of Draper's Ward, despite the gang activity.” Thomas paused, looking thoughtful. “Gerome, get a map.”

Gerome looked like he was going to argue, but there a dull _thunk_ from beneath the table and he jerked in his seat.

“Fuckin' fine,” Gerome growled. He stood and limped to the door, wincing with every other step.

“That's quite a lot of ground to cover for a supposedly old woman,” Jessamine said.

“It's one of the reasons we thought she was a witch,” Calla told her. “That and the shrines.”

“The shrines,” Jessamine asked.

Gerome reentered the room, carrying a rolled-up sheaf of paper. Calla, Thomas and Corvo helped unroll and hold down the corners. Pulling a pen out of a pocket, Thomas marked down the spots where they'd encountered Granny Rags, and where they'd found abandoned bases. There was some arguing over whether an abandoned shrine could have been Granny's or not, but they were able to narrow it down quite a bit.

“Alright,” Thomas said, staring down at the map. “We'll have our people go out and check all of these areas. Give us a day, and I'll report back with our findings.”

“I'll go too,” Jessamine started, but Corvo shook his head.  
“You have a meeting with the Tyvian ambassador for lunch, and you need to make a show of choosing the next spymaster.”

Jessamine gritted her teeth. The last thing she wanted was to be stuck in a lunch meeting with the stodgy Tyvian, and currying favour with the upper nobility, when she could be out searching for her friend.

“Fine,” Jessamine growled. “Search where you can. Report back tomorrow with whatever news you get.”

Thomas stood and bowed. Calla and Gerome followed his example, though Gerome did it with a hint of a smirk.

“If I cannot come myself, I'll send someone in my stead,” Thomas told her. Jessamine nodded and left the room.

“What are your plans when you find this 'Granny Rags',” Corvo asked as they entered the elevator back to her rooms.

“I need to find out what's she's done to the Outsider,” growled Jessamine. She was furious someone had tried and succeeded at harming her friend. “I am going to help him, whatever it takes.”

Corvo nodded, grimly. “We'll find him, Jess. We have a gaggle of supernatural assassins at your beck and call now.”

Jessamine smiled wanly. “It sounds like something out of a penny novel when you put it like that.”

Corvo opened her door for her, gesturing her into her room. “Try to get some sleep,” he said. “I know you're distressed, but you need your rest. You'll only be a burden-”

“If I don't get enough sleep, I know,” Jessamine interrupted. She sighed, checked to see if any servants were nearby, and tugged Corvo down for a kiss. “Goodnight, beloved. Do try to prevent me from killing Ambassador Sarochev.” She closed the door on his wry chuckle.

***

It seemed to take years, but eventually Jessamine was through her schedule. She'd had to listen to the ambassador drone on and on. Jessamine always allotted an extra hour to their meeting just for that reason.

“Thank you, Lord Whimblesy. We will inform you of our decision pending the position of Royal Spymaster.”

The fat fool chortled and winked at Jessamine. “Oh, yes, of course! Have to let the other pups have their chance, ho ho!”

As soon as the door shut behind him, Jessamine slumped forward and rubbed her temples.

“Well, you were looking for a foil,” Corvo told her. “Everyone will think he can't possibly be this stupid.”

Jessamine sighed. “Well, it does make a good cover for Thomas to do his actual work.”

“Speaking of which,” Corvo began, eyeing the door. “He should be here soon.”

There was a light knock at the door. The guard stationed just outside cracked the door open and announced, “Your majesty, your seven o'clock is here to see you.”

Thomas stepped around the guard and bowed to Jessamine. They waited until the door closed again to continue their talk.

“Any news,” Jessamine asked, but Thomas shook his head.

“It seems all of her usual hideouts are vacant, and have been so for a long time.” Jessamine closed her eyes, disappointed. “But, there is one place we haven't looked.”

Jessamine immediately perked back up. “Where?”

“There are caverns beneath Dunwall. We think that might be where she's hiding. With your majesty's permission, I'd like to take the men and do a sweep of the area.”

Jessamine nodded. “You have it. On the condition that I accompany you.”

Thomas' eyes widened, and Corvo made a choking noise behind her.

“Your majesty, I really do not advise this,” Thomas spluttered. Corvo added his own protests, too. Jessamine just steepled her fingers and waited until they wound down.

“Gentlemen, I have a connection to the Outsider you two do not. He has given me this task to find and remove the threat Granny Rags presents. Now I intend to complete this task. It is up to the two of you to help me, but if you don't, then I fully intend to do this alone. Am I understood?”

Thomas glanced over her shoulder to Corvo, before clenching his jaw and bowing. “We leave tonight. Please be by the hidden docks by sundown.”

Jessamine smiled triumphantly. She knew it was only a matter of time before her Whalers discovered the secret passages and escape routes that littered the Tower.

“Will your men need anything,” Jessamine asked. “They have been running around all day.”

“We have been sleeping in shifts,” Thomas told her. “We've been trained to go for longer, in case we need to evade pursuit, or our target is mobile.”

“Then I will see you at sundown,” Jessamine said. Thomas bowed again, and left the room.

“Corvo, stop sulking,” Jessamine said, without looking over her shoulder. “I can hear you pouting.”

“I am an adult,” Corvo grumbled with offended dignity. “I do _not_ pout.”

Jessamine hid a smile and called an attendant to bring her and Corvo some dinner. She'd need the energy for what was to come.

***

Later that evening, after Jessamine had changed into more practical, dark clothing and high boots, she slipped through the hidden passage to the secret docks. They were the oldest of secret passages, built not long after the construction of Dunwall Tower. As soon as Jessamine had let Corvo know about their existence, he'd ensured there was always a stockpile of food, coin, and fuel next to each boat.

“Your majesty,” Thomas said, bowing and holding out two Whaler masks. Jessamine noticed he had another tucked under one arm, and the other Whalers were already wearing theirs.

Jessamine took hers with a puzzled look. Thomas went to hand the other to Corvo, explaining, “There are occasionally pockets of noxious gasses, and swarms of rats below the Flooded District. These will protect us from both gas, and the chokedust we use to kill the swarms.”

“And the fuckin' smell,” Gerome added. He had his mask tipped up and a cigarette sticking out of his mouth. Jessamine wondered idly where he could possibly be getting those, since the blockade had prevented the usual trade routes to Serkonos.

Jessamine surveyed the assembled Whalers. It looked like there were more than she'd seen before. The wolfhounds weren't present, but there was a much larger amount of black-coated novices, bringing their number up to an even ten.

Thomas showed her where the clasps were, and how to make sure the mask was properly sealed. Once they were properly outfitted and ready, they boarded the boats and set out for the Flooded District.

“While most of us came to the Tower,” Thomas began, shifting a bit on his bench, “some stayed behind, preferring the assassin lifestyle. Master Daud stripped them of their powers, as a precaution before he left, but we let them choose what they wanted.”

Corvo leaned forward, asking, “Did they remain in the base?”

Thomas shook his head. “The base was made to be difficult, if not impossible for those without the Mark to travel across, so once their bond with Master Daud was removed, they left.”

“Did Daud go with them,” Jessamine wondered. “We went to find him after the Outsider contacted me, but he was gone.”

“He did not. We don't know where he went, and we will respect his wishes for privacy.”

Jessamine sighed. She supposed it would be too much to hope she could keep an eye, or several, on the master assassin. That was likely why he left.

The rest of the ride went by in silence, all of them lost in their own thoughts.

When they pulled up to the hidden entrance to the Whaler's old headquarters, Thomas led them to the sewer entrance. Despite being a large group, the Whalers moved silently and swiftly through the dark tunnels. After they'd passed two branches, Corvo made a quiet, interested noise.

“They've marked the tunnels,” he whispered in Jessamine's ear. “Look closely and you can see faint scratches.”

Jessamine squinted at the walls, but couldn't make sense of the seemingly random marks.

The next branch, Thomas gestured two Whalers each to go down the tunnel. Each had one blue-coated Whaler, and one black-coated Whaler. Soon it was down to Thomas, a small, slender Whaler Jessamine assumed was Cedric, Jessamine and Corvo.

Suddenly, Thomas froze, holding up a clenched fist. Jessamine strained her senses, trying to pick up whatever it was that Thomas had. Faintly, she could hear a scratching sound, quickly growing louder. From around the corner came a veritable tide of rats, hissing and squeaking and climbing over one another in their haste to get at their prey. Thomas threw two chokedust bombs and yelled, “ _Run!_ ”

But the massive swarm of rats surged over the bodies of their suffocated fellows and attacked before anyone could take more than a step.

Jessamine could barely hear the others' shouts and screams over the noise. Chokedust filled the air, making it impossible to see where you were. Jessamine slashed wildly at the rats, trying to retreat.

Then she was falling, her startled cry getting cut off by a surge of icy water filling her mask. Jessamine thrashed and kicked, losing her sword as she was dragged helplessly through the water by a bruising grip on her leg. Jessamine was slammed and scraped against the walls of the tunnel, losing precious air every time. Her lungs were already burning and convulsing, trying to force her to breathe in.

Then, just as Jessamine thought she was going to drown she was dragged from the water and tossed into the air. She landed heavily on her side, scrabbling at the clasps on her mask to pry it off and free her face. Jessamine coughed and heaved, lying there on the stone floor, just trying to keep breathing.

“Dear me, my beloved,” a creaky voice commented. “We have a guest for dinner.”

Jessamine rolled onto her front, trying to get to her feet, but a force slammed down on her back before she could get beyond her hands and knees. Jessamine cried out in pain as her ribs connected with an outcropping of rock.

“Now, now,” the voice chided. “No need to get to your feet. Let Granny Rags do the work, dear. You are, after all, our guest!”

Jessamine coughed and turned her head. Standing over an actual cauldron, with her back to Jessamine, was an old woman. She was still muttering to herself, something about birdies. Biting back a groan of pain, Jessamine slowly reached for her pistol at her hip.

Just as her fingers brushed the grip, Granny Rags straightened and turned towards her with surprising agility. Her face twisted into a mad snarl as she screamed, “ _What do you think you're doing, you little brat?_ ”

Jessamine aimed and fired, hitting the old woman in the chest, then cried out in horror as Granny Rags dissolved into a swarm of rats. She Jumped away, whimpering breathlessly at the agony it brought, and found herself outside a small hut.

“Where did you go, you naughty child,” Granny Rags hissed. Jessamine tried the door, finding it unlocked. She tumbled inside, panting in fear and pain. Her ankle was barely holding her weight, and her ribs screamed with every breath. The room was lavishly decorated, with a massive furnace against the wall.

That was all Jessamine could see before a weight slammed into her. Jessamine tumbled against the furnace, nearly falling in. She could feel the intense heat against her flank. Claw-like fingers closed around her throat, once again cutting off her air. Jessamine clawed against the old woman's and arms, trying to get away, but it was like her bones were made of steel.

Jessamine snarled and flung her body to the side, slamming the both of them against the metal of the furnace. Granny Rags screamed as she came in contact with the hot metal, and her grip loosened. Jessamine sucked in a gasp, and lunged for the old woman, twisting into one of the throws Corvo had taught her, and shoved the witch into the furnace. A terrible scream filled the air, almost a physical thing gouging into her eardrums. Jessamine staggered over to the lever, and pulled it, closing the furnace just as a screaming, burning Granny Rags lunged for the opening. As soon as the furnace shut, the scream cut off. Jessamine slowly slid to the ground, trying to regain her breath.

She didn't know how long she stayed there, sitting against the wall with her head on her knees, but eventually she forced herself back to her feet, retrieving her fallen pistol along the way. She needed to find Corvo and the others. Jessamine refused to acknowledge they may not have survived the giant swarm.

Out of the corner of her eye, Jessamine could see a purple glow. She remembered Thomas talking about Granny Rags' shrines, and limped over to investigate.

In the middle of a complex circle of runes painted in whale oil, a very familiar figure was kneeling, naked.

“Outsider,” Jessamine whispered, shocked. The god was shackled in the same device she'd found Teague Martin in. Runes had been carved into his flesh, some still bleeding sluggishly. Jessamine stumbled over to the lever keeping him imprisoned and pulled it. The Outsider collapsed forward, just barely managing to turn enough so he didn't collide face-first into the stone floor.

“Outsider,” Jessamine repeated,hurrying over to the fallen god and feeling for a pulse. She found it, weak as it was, and breathed a sigh of relief.

“Enough of your tricks, Vera” the Outsider muttered, gritting his teeth. “I know it's you.”

“Outsider, it's me,” she said, worried. “It's Jessamine. Open your eyes, please.”

With a mocking smile, he did. Jessamine nearly dropped the god in shock.

Instead of the usual endless black, the Outsider's eyes were milky.

“Your eyes,” Jessamine gasped. “What did she do to you?”

The Outsider laughed, mirthlessly. “Why, Vera,” he drawled, “that was almost convincing.”

Jessamine bit her lip, fighting the urge to cry. She gently took his hand in hers and brought it to her hair. It was a little bedraggled, but the braids he had woven into her hair were still there. The Outsider's slender fingers slid slowly along the braids, feeling the strange, complex style.

“Just a few nights ago,” Jessamine told him. “You danced with me. Then you gave me these beautiful braids and said they suited me. Do... Do you remember?” The Outsider shuddered, his scornful expression crumpling.

“Jessamine?” His voice was small.

She curled over him, stroking his hair. “Yes, yes,” she reassured him. “It's me. I came to find you.”

The Outsider made a noise like a sob and twisted, burying his face in her belly. The hand in her hair fell to wrap tightly around her waist. “You came for me,” he choked out, squeezing his eyes shut.

“Of course I did,” Jessamine said. “Come, let's get you warm.”

The two of them managed to get to their feet, staggering somewhat on wobbly legs. Eventually, they managed to get back to Granny's bedroom. Jessamine eased the Outsider down to sit on the bed, searching for some clean water and rags to wash out his wounds. She was just about to give up, when she heard a splash from outside. Jessamine unholstered her pistol and crept over to the door.

“ _Jessamine!_ ”

“Corvo,” Jessamine breathed in relief. She rushed to the door. “Corvo, up here!”

There was the whoosh and pained grunt of Corvo Blinking up to her, and Jessamine was enveloped in a tight hug. She tried to ignore her ribs screaming protests as she clung equally hard to her lover.

“Jess, what happened? One minute we were swarmed, the next the rats scattered and you were nowhere to be found.”

“The witch got me,” Jessamine explained. “I've killed her, but-”

The Outsider interrupted. “Unless you destroyed her cameo, you haven't killed her.”

Corvo jerked in Jessamine's arms. She flinched as it jostled her wounded ribs.

“Jess, what-” he began, only to be interrupted again.

“Yes, I'm here; yes, I'm blind; yes, this means I'm mortal. Now, destroy her cameo before she comes back!” As if on cue, there was a thumping noise from the depths of the furnace. Everyone jumped.

The Outsider fished around in the bed, coming up with thumb-sized whalebone carving. Stepping away from Jessamine, Corvo took it and struck it with the pommel of his sword. It took a few blows, but the cameo cracked. An unearthly scream filled the air as a blinding flash of light exploded from the whalebone. Corvo snarled and hit it one final blow, and the ear-piercing noise cut off as the cameo shattered.

Everyone breathed a sigh of relief at the cessation of the painful noise.

“May I,” Corvo asked, gently touching the Outsider's shoulder. “I need to look at those wounds.”

“That may take some time,” the god mumbled, tiredly. “I seem to have gained quite the collection.”

“Why was she hurting you like this? What was the point?”

“Later, Corvo,” the Outsider said, his head drooping. “I promise to tell you both the whole story later. Just... Can we please leave this place?”

“Of course.” Corvo gently lifted the Outsider in his arms and carried him down to the cavern floor. The Outsider slid one pale arm around his shoulders and cuddled close to Corvo's warmth.

“We'll need to swim,” Corvo warned the god. “Can you hold on to me?”

“I suppose I'll have to,” the Outsider drawled, shifting to cling tighter to Corvo. The Lord Protector shifted the Outsider so he was clinging to his back, and eased into the water, drawing a shocked hiss from the god.

“Are you-”

“It's just cold, Corvo,” the Outsider snapped. “Let's get this over with.”

Corvo exchanged a glance with Jessamine, and then dove. Jessamine jumped in after them.

The swim back was uneventful, Jessamine and Corvo using the rough tunnel walls to pull themselves against the current. It wasn't long before they were emerging, gasping into the air.

“There you are,” came a welcome voice. Jessamine wiped the water out of her eyes to see Thomas bandaging up Cedric. The teen seemed to be covered in bites. Both looked relieved to see her.

“Are you both all right?” Jessamine looked them both over as she climbed out of the water, searching for any serious wounds. “We'll get you both double doses of elixir when we get back.”

“Thank you, your majesty.”

Jessamine turned to help the Outsider out of the water. The god had his eyes closed again, and was shivering constantly. He huddled close to Jessamine's body heat when she pulled him out.

“Here,” Cedric said, shrugging out of his long coat. Jessamine wrapped it around the Outsider as he mumbled a shaky 'thank you'.

“Is this him,” Thomas asked, finishing wrapping the last of Cedric's bites and eyeing the Outsider curiously.

“It d-depends on w-w-what you mean by 'him',” the Outsider snarked back through chattering teeth.

“Yes,” Jessamine said, “this is-”

“Abantes,” the Outsider interrupted. “Call me Abantes. I'm not... _him_ right now.”

Jessamine hesitated, then nodded. “Alright,” she agreed after a moment's realisation that he couldn't see her.

“Jess,” Corvo murmured, “What happened? You're injured.”

Jessamine told them what had transpired as Corvo pulled out a roll of cloth and began tightly binding her ribs and ankle. He gently checked her bruised throat as well.

“Well,” Thomas said, sounding rather impressed. “I'm glad you killed her. No one that mad should have that level of power.”

Jessamine couldn't help but agree. She gently shook Abantes out of his doze, and the five of them headed back to the boats.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Drea and I looked up civilisations from approximately 3000 BCE, and the Aegean Bronze age seemed to fit best. So here, take Ancient Greek!Outsider. And yes, he is blind. You'll find out the specifics later.


	8. In Which A Flirtation Occurs

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Being human is far more difficult than the Outsider remembers.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> For Drea, who is always a delight.
> 
> Let me know if I've messed up writing a blind Outsider. I'm trying to stay mindful of any limitations he'd have, but sometimes I forget.

Jessamine waited by the fallen god's bedside in a guest bedroom. They had met up with the other Whalers along the way back, most waiting for them by the boats. Corvo had carried Abantes since his feet were carved with runes that were cut into most of his skin. By the time they had reached the boats, the fallen god had dropped into unconsciousness.

When Corvo had brought up calling Sokolov to look at Abantes, she'd shaken her head. The last thing they needed was the obsessive natural philosopher discovering the Outsider's vulnerability. So the two of them cleaned his wounds, trying not to make them any worse. Though the runes weren't cut all that deep into his skin, they were numerous. They circled his wrists and trailed down his arms. They were cut above each prominent knob of his spine and along his ribs. Down along his belly to his hipbones that jutted out alarmingly, down the inside of his thighs and the tops of his shins.

After cleaning and bandaging what they could, Corvo dressed him in Jessamine's spare sleep pants. Jessamine had proceeded to send Corvo to tell her secretary to cancel today's appointments.

There was a hoarse groan from the bed. Jessamine jerked out of her doze, and leaned over the fallen god's bed.

“Outs- I mean, Abantes?”

“I forgot how horrible mornings were,” he moaned, flopping onto his back before wincing and rolling to his side again. “I don't like it.”

Jessamine bit back a smile. “For such an ancient and powerful being,” she teased, “you certainly sound petulant.”

Abantes opened his eyes enough to glare in her direction. “I dislike your tone, too,” he grumbled. Jessamine laughed and reached out to affectionately tousle his hair. The god immediately scrunched up his face and batted at her hand like an irate cat.

“Would you like something to eat or drink,” Jessamine asked. “I told the chef I have an upset stomach, and she sent up some broth. It's still warm.”

Abantes sniffed at the air, shifting about to try to find a comfortable sitting position that didn't put too much pressure on his wounds.

“What kind of broth,” Abantes asked suspiciously.

Jessamine reached over to help the god sit up. “Just blood ox. I know you have some connection with whales, so I specified they not have any whale products in it.”

Abantes looked startled. “I... Thank you, Jessamine.”

Jessamine set the tray up in the god's lap. The god skimmed light fingers over the tray until they encountered the bowl, then farther up until he found the spoon. Abantes went to pick up the spoon, but flinched as he tried to grasp it. He growled irritably and tried to pick it up again, wincing in pain.

“Would you like some help,” Jessamine offered, biting her lip to keep from smiling.

The god scowled. “I am older than even the _invention_ of spoons,” he snapped.

“I see,” Jessamine said. “Well, old man or not-” Abantes glared “-you're injured. I was going to offer to help you in any case. I don't want you re-opening any wounds.”

Abantes submitted with ill grace. As soon as Jessamine fed him the first sip, though, the hungrily drank the broth.

“I forgot about food,” he mumbled. “I made myself forget how much I missed it.”

“So you _were_ human once?”

Abantes leaned back against the pillows. “Yes,” he said. “A very long time ago. Long before this city was founded. We didn't even have steel, yet.” His lips quirked into a smile. “I've been the Outsider for over four thousand years.”

“Where were you from?”

“A town of black stone,” Abantes said. Whatever he was going to say next was lost as someone knocked at the door. Jessamine opened it to see Cedric, looking incredibly nervous on the other side, holding a bundle of clothing.

“Thomas said you might need this?” He held up the clothes like some sort of offering to a god. Which, upon reflection, Jessamine supposed it was.

“Thank you, Cedric,” she said, smiling at the pleased flush on the youth's face.

“Is it really him?” Cedric whispered conspiratorially.

“Yes, but he seems to prefer the name Abantes for now,” Jessamine told him. “We do have an Overseer in residence here at the Tower, so it's likely best that we keep quiet on his true identity.”

Wide-eyed, Cedric nodded. Then he froze as a thought seemed to occur to him.

“Your majesty,” he pleaded. “ _Don't let him anywhere near Gerome!_ ”

“Well...” Jessamine mused. It did promise to be hilarious. And watching Cedric panic was quite entertaining.

In the distance, Jessamine heard the ping of the elevator, then a strident female voice shouting, “Munchkin! C'mon! We need you to fill out our numbers!”

Cedric grimaced, bowed, and bolted.

Corvo came around the corner just in time to receive a small Whaler to the chest.

Jessamine watched with amusement as Corvo's quick reflexes came into play and he caught the boy before he could ricochet to the floor.

“Careful,” Corvo chided, lips quirking in a smile. Jessamine had the privilege to see Cedric turn so red he looked like he was risking possible internal injury.

Cedric babbled out a garbled apology and sprinted away. A few seconds later she could hear Calla's raucous laughter. She must have figured out what had happened.

“How is he?” Corvo asked when he reached her.

“Grumpy,” Jessamine replied, stepping back to let Corvo in.

“I am blind, not deaf,” Abantes snapped, looking petulant again. 

“I see what you mean,” Corvo murmured to Jessamine. Abantes' glare snapped over towards him.

“Well, now that Corvo's here,” Jessamine started, sitting back down near the fallen god. “We'd like to know what happened. Why are you like this? What happened to you?”

Abantes grimaced. “Looking back, I can see that something was clearly going wrong. I was... getting unusually invested in some of my Marked. I see now that Vera's little rituals had more of a chance of working than I'd thought. Honestly, it shouldn't have worked.”

“What shouldn't have worked?” Jessamine asked.

“She pulled a part of me away,” Abantes said, looking ill. “It... _hurt_. I haven't felt pain like that in a very long time. She took that part of me, _this_ part of me, and forced it to gain physical, human form. It was... nauseating. Like being pressed into rotting meat.” He closed his eyes, swallowing hard. “I was understandably disoriented. The first thing I heard was her voice.

“'Dreary, dreary, dreary',” he pitched his voice into a passable imitation of Granny Rags' creaky rasp. “She was... displeased I wasn't whole. She stripped me and chained me up. She- she cut me-” Abantes broke off, his voice cracking. Jessamine leaned over and gently pulled him into a hug. The god burrowed his face into her hair, clinging tight to her shirt. Jessamine felt the bed dip behind Abantes, and a second set of arms, broader and warmer, wrapped around them both.

“You're very strong,” Corvo rumbled, “to hold out like you did. You're safe, now. She's dead and gone.”

Abantes shuddered. “I just wanted her to _stop_. I couldn't make her stop! I was powerless! I swore I wouldn't be so helpless again, but she caught me and cut me and wouldn't stop _touching_ me-!” The fallen god broke off, sobbing into Jessamine's shoulder. His thin fingers dug painfully into her back, but she refused to say anything.

“It's all right now,” she whispered, stroking gentle fingers through his soft hair. "I swear to you, I'll keep you safe."

Sandwiched between the Empress of the Isles and her Lord Protector, a fallen god cried.

***

“Is he asleep?” Corvo asked, looking down at the tight ball of blanketed god, curled up with his head on Jessamine's lap.

“So it seems,” she murmured. “I only wish Granny Rags was still alive so that I could kill her again. Slower, this time.” Corvo hummed in agreement.

“Corvo, could you please bring me some of the paperwork I have on my desk?” Jessamine asked. “I don't want to leave him alone, but I do have pressing matters to tend to.”

Corvo smiled, ducked down for a kiss, and slipped out the door. Jessamine turned back to her sleeping friend, and gently touched his temple. Though he was flushed from weeping, he didn't feel like infection had set in yet. Jessamine hoped he'd be safe from that, at least.

After a while, Corvo came back, helping her extricate herself from Abantes' grasp so she could sit at the desk provided for all visiting nobility.

After a few hours of work later, Jessamine was pulled out of her trance by Corvo's low humming. She looked up to see him doing paperwork of his own.

“That's an old lullaby,” Abantes murmured, sitting up and rubbing his eyes. “I think that's one that originated on Pandyssia.”

Corvo looked up from whatever he was writing. “Sorry?”

“The lullaby you were humming. It's a few centuries old. I like it.”

Corvo smiled, a little half-smirk that tugged at the corner of his lips. “My mother used to sing it to me.”

Jessamine ducked her head and stared at the paperwork. She didn't want to disturb this delicate moment between her two boys.

“I should check your bandages,” Corvo said. There was the rustle of papers being stacked together and put aside.

“Should you? Or are you just trying to get out of reading guard reports?” Abantes sounded drier than the southern tip of Pandyssia.

Corvo laughed. “I fail to see why I can't do both, Abantes.” 

There was a rustling of the bedcovers. Jessamine made some doodles, pretending to make notes on whatever was written in front of her. Instead, she listened intently.

“Here's a salve I use all the time when it comes to cuts,” Corvo said. Jessamine could hear a lid being unscrewed.

“The mighty Lord Protector, winner of the Blade Verbena, still gets injured in training accidents? I'm shocked.”

“Yeah, yeah,” Corvo sounded wry. “You try training guards with live steel and watch how quickly you get sliced up catching stray blades.”

There was a soft gasp. Jessamine chanced a glance up at the two. Corvo had Abantes' foot in his lap, gently rubbing a faintly pink salve into the arch. Jessamine's own feet tingled in sensory memory of Corvo's foot massages. He hadn't done that since-

“I haven't done this since Jess was pregnant,” Corvo mused, lips quirking up. Abantes' eyes went heavy-lidded.

“I don't care,” he moaned. “Just keep doing it. It feels wonderful.”

Corvo's ears went pink at the sound. Jessamine quickly went back to her work, biting the inside of her lip to keep from smiling.

“All right,” Corvo said, “Trousers off.”

“Why, Corvo,” Abantes purred, “So forward.” There was a delighted laugh from the fallen god at Corvo's embarrassed spluttering. “Well, who would have thought the mighty Lord Attano would get so flustered at some light innuendo. You've just handed me a delightful weapon, my dear.”

There was some unintelligible grumbling from Corvo that Jessamine internally translated to “shut up, you're right, but I don't want to admit it”.

There was another rustle of fabric. The wet sound of salve being warmed between rubbing hands. Abantes' grunt of pain as his wounds were touched.

“Well, on the bright side,” Corvo began, “none are showing signs of infection yet. I think we should count our blessings on that. I tried to keep you as clean and dry as I could, but we _were_ travelling through the sewers.

“And here I was hoping for an amputation to fill out my visit to mortality,” Abantes snarked, sarcasm heavy on every word. Jessamine bit back a snicker.

“Well, if your heart is set on it,” Corvo said, dryly, “I can lop off a toe or two. Any preference?”

“No, no,” Abantes sighed. “You've taken the fun out of it now.”

Jessamine couldn't help it. She finally laughed, resting her cheek on her hand and regarding her two favourite people. Both Corvo and Abantes startled, looking like they had forgotten she was in the room.

“Sorry, lads,” she said, laughing. “I couldn't help myself.”

Jessamine eyed Corvo's broad, tan hands on Abantes' pale skin. Now there was an image. Jessamine bit her lower lip, glancing from Abantes to Corvo. Corvo was still flushed, the blush strong enough to stand out under his darker skin tones. Their eyes met, and Corvo's flush darkened even more.

“Jess,” he growled warningly. Jessamine gave him her best 'smug cat' smile.

“What is she doing?” Abantes asked, as Corvo caught his hands and worked salve there.

“She's being a filthy pervert,” Corvo muttered. Abantes reached out with his free hand and found Corvo's jaw. His fingers slipped up to brush against his cheekbones, feeling the heat there.

“Why, Jessamine,” Abantes said, lightly. “I am shocked.”

“Are you, truly?” Jessamine asked.

Abantes' pale lips quirked into a smirk. “No, not really,” he said, amused. “I knew you had a perverse mind from some of those novels you slipped me.”

Jessamine laughed, remembering some of the harlequin romances she'd added to the pile. “Well, you did seem to like them.”

“I find it more entertaining to remember Daud's face when I showed the Knife of Dunwall series to him,” he said, slyly.

Jessamine grinned, delighted. “Oh, you didn't.”

“I did. I have never seen him look so horrified.” This time Corvo joined in in the laughter.

“Lean forward so I can reach your spine,” Corvo said. Abantes did, shooting Jessamine a smirk.

“I wonder if he phrased that deliberately to make it devoid of innuendo,” he teased. “I was almost hoping to hear him say 'roll over'.”

Corvo groaned. “You are both incorrigible.”

Jessamine stood and gently combed Corvo's long hair out of his face, pressing a light kiss to his cheek.

“You love us,” she told him, then ducked down to press another kiss to Abantes' cheek.

Corvo sighed. “I suppose I do.” He finished putting salve on Abantes and screwed the lid back on. “How does that feel?”

Abantes stretched, gingerly. “It doesn't hurt,” he said, surprised. He shifted to stand, completely shameless in his nudity.

“Perhaps wait until we give you some trousers first,” Corvo said, retrieving the bundle of clothing.

After some shuffling and fiddling with buttons, an exasperated “Well, buttons weren't invented yet!” from Abantes, he was finally presentable.

Jessamine eyed the fallen god. “Well, it actually suits you,” she said. Abantes was dressed in a white button-up shirt and pressed slacks. She reached out and finger-combed his hair back into order, causing the god to scowl and bat at her hand again.

“I wish to see the ex-Whalers,” Abantes declared, imperiously.

Jessamine exchanged a glance with Corvo. “Why?” she asked.

“They were integral to my rescue, weren't they?”

“Well, yes,” Jessamine answered.

“Then I should thank them. That is still considered polite, yes?” Abantes arched an eyebrow, quizzically.

Jessamine exchanged another speaking look with Corvo. Then she turned back.

Jessamine studied his feet. “Walking doesn't hurt?”

The fallen god shifted from foot to foot. “Not particularly,” he said. “Let's go.”

Jessamine sighed and let Corvo lead the way, walking beside Abantes and watching for any stumbling.

Eventually, the elevator let them out on the Old Barracks level. In front of the door to the Whalers' common room, Cedric leaned against the wall, looking peeved.

“Cedric,” Jessamine said, hoping to forgo the usual spluttering at the sight of Corvo.

Cedric looked up, but instead of staring at Corvo as usual, his eyes fell on Abantes. “Shit,” he breathed. He instantly lunged for the door. “Stay there!”

“Uh,” Jessamine managed, but the teen was gone. She could hear frantic yelling from inside the room, something about Outsider, and Brannon. Then it was silent for a heartbeat before someone yelled, “Brannon, no!”

The door was slammed open. The big Whaler edged out, his shoulders blocking the doorway and a determined look on his face.

“Restrict the Wandering Gaze,” he said, his voice trembling. Jessamine saw his hands shaking on the doorframe. “That looks hither and yonder for some flashing thing that easily catches a man's fancy in one moment, but brings calamity in the next. For the eyes are never tired of seeing, nor are they quick to spot illusion. A man whose gaze is corrupted is like a warped mirror that has traded beauty for ugliness and ugliness for beauty. Instead, fix your eyes to what is edifying and to what is pure, and then you will be able to recognize the profane monuments of the Outsider."

Corvo stepped in front of Abantes, who was making the sort of face one makes when confronted with a talking insect. Interest, but also disgust.

“That doesn't work, you know,” Abantes said, raising an elegant eyebrow.

Cedric appeared under Brannon's thick bicep. “Brannon, it's okay. He's not here to hurt us!”

Brannon took a shuddering breath. “Don't,” he said, staring wide-eyed at Abantes. “Don't take them. Don't corrupt them. Please. They're all I have.”

Abantes narrowed his eyes, then turned to Jessamine. “You read that useless Abbey drivel. What is he talking about?”

“You're lying,” Brannon snarled. “Restrict the lying tongue that is like a spark in a man's mouth. It is such a little thing, yet from one spark an entire city may burn to the ground. The father of a lie will suffer a punishment compounded by each person relayed it. Better to live a life of silence than unleash a stream of untruth. The echoes of lies come back as the voice of the Outsider."

“I think he believes you're going to take their souls,” Corvo murmured, shifting so that he blocked Brannon from approaching Abantes and Jessamine. His sword was in his hand, but it wasn't unfolded.

Abantes pulled a face. “What, exactly, am I expected to do with souls?” he demanded. He took a step forward and bumped into Corvo. “Corvo, what are you doing? Do you have your sword out? Put that away.”

Corvo tried to nudge Abantes back behind himself again. “I'm trying to do my job,” he snapped.

“Well, it's irritating.” Abantes rested a hand on Corvo's back and leaned around him. “Stop being a mouthpiece for your order and speak for yourself,” he said to Brannon. “Honestly, I thought you were supposed to be a Whaler.”

“I-” the man began, beginning to hyperventilate. “I'm not-” Then he jerked, and strong arms caught him before he fell.

“Sorry about that, Empress,” Calla said, tugging a sleep dart from Brannon's neck. “He's a former Overseer, but he's... not well. He forgets, sometimes, that their ox shite was just that, shite. We try to help him when we can, but sometimes something surprises him, and he gets set back.” She brought the unconscious Brannon back into the Whaler's common room.

“You have an ex-Overseer?” Corvo sounded surprised. “Their... training runs deep.”

“You mean their brainwashing,” Cedric growled. Jessamine had never seen him so angry. “There's no love for the Abbey here. Especially now that we know what they did to Bran.”

“What did they-” Abantes began.

“Don't,” Cedric snapped, cutting him off. “It's not your place to know, and it's not ours to tell.”

Abantes looked affronted. Then he sighed and visibly let the topic go.

“Are the others inside?”

“Yes,” Cedric answered, looking suspicious. Abantes must have heard the wariness in his voice, because he waved a hand magnanimously.

“I just want to thank those that were there for my, ah, _rescue_ ,” Abantes said, looking faintly annoyed he had to be rescued to begin with.

Cedric blinked. “I... Alright. Come inside.”

Jessamine brushed against Abantes and offered an arm, leading the fallen god into the common room. Inside, she could see Gerome with a small pile of coins and die in front of him. He'd clearly been dicing with someone. Thomas wasn't there, but the twins Rinaldo and Rulfio were. Everyone looked up when they entered.

Abantes cocked his head, then whispered, “Do I have their attention?”

“Yes,” Jessamine answered, just as quietly.

“I'm sure you know who I am,” he began, speaking clearly. “I would like to thank you, for your rescue, and ask for your silence regarding my current state.” Abantes bared his teeth in a lupine grin. “Before you think to exploit this perceived vulnerability, do try to remember that I will return to the Void and regain my powers. And I will remember you.”

Silence washed over the room. The fallen god smirked. Finally, someone broke the tense atmosphere.

“Are you fuckin' kiddin' me?”

Rinaldo rolled his eyes. Rulfio snorted. “Was that meant to be a thank you or a threat?”

Abantes' smirk widened. “Yes.”

Gerome barked out a hoarse laugh. “Damn, Empress. You never said the Outsider was such a fuckin' asshole.”

“Daud liked to call me the Black-Eyed Bastard,” Abantes said, mildly. Cedric seemed to finally snap out of his horrified rictus and just turned on his heel and stiffly marched out of the room. Corvo made a choked noise that might have been a suppressed laugh.

“Empress, Grumpy, get over here,” Gerome called. “We'll play two-on-two when Cal get's back.”

Jessamine escorted Abantes over to the bench, chuckling at Corvo's indignant “ _Grumpy?!_ ”

What followed, after Calla returned, was the most vicious and competitive round of cheating Jessamine had ever taken part in, and she had diced with General Tobias.

“You know, for a couple a' spoiled nobles,” Gerome grumbled, “you sure as hell know how to dice dirty.”

Jessamine gave him her most imperious look. “My father was an old soldier. No one knows more about cheating than old soldiers.”

Corvo, meanwhile, shrugged. “I wasn't always a noble.”

Gerome looked immensely pleased. “Ah, well,” he grumbled cheerfully, shaking the cup of die. “I guess I better kiss the Outsider's balls for luck, then, eh?”

From the other end of the table, Abantes broke off from his conversation with a newly-awoken Thomas, his face twisting in distaste.

“Please don't,” he told Gerome, mildly. Calla began guffawing so hard she nearly fell off of the bench.

Jessamine laughed at their antics, feeling a warm glow of affection for this little family she'd invited into her home. She swore to herself that, no matter what comes, she would keep them safe. It was the least she could do to repay how warmly they'd welcomed her into their fold.

Jessamine glanced over at Abantes, delicately sipping from a steaming mug. She'd need to find out from the fallen god how they were supposed to restore him to his place in the Void.

Jessamine had a feeling that part, however, would not be easy.


	9. In Which The Void Wants Its Avatar, and A God Is Taken

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Abantes is not having a good day.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Warning for body horror of Lovecraftian levels, past dub-/non-con, and consent issues that result from which.

Jessamine opened her eyes to the Void. She and Corvo had directed Abantes to his rooms, promising to get him a walking stick he could use to prevent walking into or off of things. Then Corvo had joined her in bed for a very lovely end to a pleasant day. Now she was somewhere she really hadn't expected, what with their guest sleeping a few floors down.

Before, the Void was this blue-grey expanse, with shattered streets and buildings, interspersed with slabs of black slate. Jessamine remembered Abantes talking about a village of black stone, and wondered if there was a connection.

Now the stone was shattered into jagged shards. The buildings rotted and mouldering. The Void swirled and ate at everything.

 **Bring him back,** some _thing_ said from behind her. The voice, if it could even be called that, was all grating rock and screams of dying whales. Even though it seemed to bypass her ears and transmit directly to her brain, Jessamine felt it vibrate in her blood and bone. If ancient madness could make a sound, it would be that.

She began to turn, only to be held fast by familiar hands.

“Outsider?” she asked, both hoping and fearing an affirmative.

Another pair of hands slipped over her eyes. And another curled around her throat.

 **What was left behind,** it said. There was something horribly _wrong_ about the hands. The fingers felt like they had simultaneously too many and too few joints. The hand curled oddly, and it was slippery with what smelled like sea water.

A hand touched her waist. Something wrapped delicately around her ankle. What could have been a thumb, or even a tongue stroked her jugular. Jessamine fought down the horror rising like bile in her throat. Her nightdress was getting soaked.

 **Bring him back,** it wailed. There was the unmistakable sensation of lips on her nape. And on her spine. And her palm.

“I don't know how,” Jessamine quavered. Her voice was shaking, and she couldn't bring herself to care.

The thing at her back seemed to sense her fear, and stirred.

 **Not going to harm,** it murmured, ending on a clicking wail. It wrapped more arms and... other things Jessamine didn't want to dwell on around her in a perverted parody of a hug. **No fear.**

It hummed, send vibrations again throughout her body. **Mine,** it gurgled. Teeth nipped at her nape, and a possessive hand stroked dripping fingers over her calf from knee to ankle. Lips pressed against her Mark. Jessamine fought not to pull away, to afraid to incite its wrath with needle-like teeth lightly nibbling at her neck.

 **Bring him to me. Bring him where I can reach.** Icy breath chilled her ear, and what felt like a tongue with teeth scraped the skin just behind.

“I will,” Jessamine said, inches away from trying to thrash free and running, screaming, as far as she could.

 **Waiting,** it hissed, and she woke choking on a horrified scream.

“Jess?” Corvo murmured, reaching for her. Jessamine twisted and buried her face against his shoulder, taking comfort in his warm skin. Corvo always radiated heat, and never before was Jessamine so grateful. Jessamine heaved a shaking breath, breathing in his reassuringly solid scent of leather and sword oil.

They both jerked as the elevator pinged, letting someone out onto their floor. Corvo snatched up his sword from where it was folded on the night table, and rolled out of bed, wearing nothing but his Mark. He prowled to the door, gesturing for Jessamine to hide on the other side of the bed.

Before she could do anything, there was a thud and a cry from the antechamber. Corvo jerked and opened the door, abandoning caution to the winds.

“Abantes?” he asked, flabbergasted. Corvo left the room, presumably to help Abantes from where he'd fallen. Reassured that there wasn't any danger, Jessamine watched him leave, and stood to find and don her robe. Corvo led Abantes into her room, gently ushering him to the rumpled bed.

The fallen god looked as shaken as Jessamine felt. He, at least, was wearing clothes. While Abantes clambered onto the bed, sweeping his hands out until he encountered Jessamine's leg, Corvo tugged on his trousers and replaced his sword on the night table.

“Abantes, darling, what's wrong?” Jessamine asked.

“The Void,” he whispered. “It had you. It was going to take you. You were gone!”

Jessamine caught his hands and tugged him forwards so he could reach her better. He frantically patted at her, checking for... something. Corvo knelt on the bed beside her, running a calloused hand over Abantes back.

“It was just a dream,” he murmured, reassuringly. “Just a nightmare. Jessamine's still here.”

“No,” Jessamine said, shivering. “No, Corvo, he's right.”

Corvo's head snapped up to stare at her, wide-eyed. Abantes finished his tactile inventory, and squirmed into the space between Corvo and Jessamine.

“It needs an avatar,” Abantes explained, running a hand up and down Jessamine's arm. “I'm unavailable right now, as you can see, but it remembers my interest in you two, and that Jessamine was the first one to pique it. And, the parts that are what's left of me are trying to find a human to latch on to.”

“It gave the impression it wanted you,” Jessamine said, slipping an arm around Abantes' shoulders to touch the warm curve of Corvo's muscled one.

Abantes twisted so he was nestled more firmly between them. “It's a matter of interpretation. The Void is... alien. I've been gone for too long. It's reaching for an avatar, and while I'm preferred, it will take any of my Marked I've payed any sort of attention to. I was afraid this was going to happen.”

“Why didn't you say anything?” Corvo demanded.

“ _Because I don't want to go back!_ ”

Corvo and Jessamine stiffened at the sudden shout. Abantes glared at his lap.

“You can't even begin to conceive what it's like in there,” he growled. “When I first arrived, I was like I am now. But the Void- It corrupts. It eats away at your essence and fills all the gaps with itself. I was losing my mind and sense of self to that _damned_ place.” His expression twisted. “Four _thousand_ years as the Outsider, and I lost nearly all that made me human. I only kept what I did by watching mortals and reminding myself what it was like to be one.”

Jessamine stroked his bony back as Abantes raked thin fingers through his hair.

“If I go back,” he whispered, “I'll lose my humanity again. And if I stay, I'll lose one of you. It's only a matter of time before it tries to go after Corvo, as well.” He sniffled and scrubbed at his face. “I can't win.”

Jessamine exchanged a look with Corvo. She saw his determined expression and nodded decisively.

“Abantes,” she said, catching his attention. “What if you had someone to help you remember what it's like to be human?”

Abantes frowned. “I don't understand.”

“What Jessamine is saying,” Corvo explained, “is that we're offering to help you remember what it's like to be human. As long as we're alive, we'll do whatever it takes to help you keep your humanity.”

“That's a dangerous thing to offer,” Abantes warned. His hand tightened around Jessamine's wrist.

“We trust you,” Jessamine told him, lacing her fingers through his. On Abantes' other side, Corvo did the same.

Abantes took a shuddering breath. “We need to go somewhere where the barrier between this plane and the Void is weak.”

Jessamine let him change the subject. “Where would we find that?”

“Wherever there's a large concentration of objects that are imbued with the Void. It has to be at least twenty.”

Corvo frowned, thoughtfully. “There's no way we can find that sort of hoard in Dunwall. The Abbey would never stand for it. They'd confisca-”

He froze, turning to stare at Jessamine.

“The Abbey,” he breathed. “They confiscate everything. Every whalebone charm and rune. Jess!”

“But I'll need a reason to enter,” Jessamine protested.

“You have a weekly lunch appointment with the High Overseer, right? Ask for a tour to see how his new facilities are. Then we slip out and go where they keep their confiscated items, and steal as many as we can.”

“Can we carry over twenty Void artifacts?” Jessamine asked dubiously. Corvo hesitated, stymied.

Abantes looked oddly charmed. “As touching as your concern for me is, I can easily pose as a visiting noble scion that would like to find a workaround for his... limitations.” Abantes' smile turn mocking. “I am, after all, ever so devout.”

Corvo snorted, but looked intrigued.

“So we smuggle you in, but we still need to sneak around an Abbey stronghold, and you're inexperienced, as well as blind.”

Abantes twisted to face Corvo. Jessamine couldn't see his expression, but his tone was scathing when he snapped, “My dear Corvo, don't hold back on my account.”

Corvo sighed. “Abantes, it's my job to identify anything that could jeopardize Jessamine's safety. Since we're going to be working together to infiltrate a hostile fortress, I need to do everything in my power to ensure Jess' safety. That includes finding ways to turn liabilities into strengths.”

The fallen god pouted, but kept quiet.

“We'll need to know the layout,” Corvo continued. “Maybe that other Whaler, Brannon? He might know something. He _was_ an Overseer. He must have done the pilgrimage to Whitecliff. We'll ask once Jess is done with the audiences tomorrow.”

Abantes leaned into Jessamine's side. “I don't want to sleep alone,” he mumbled. He squirmed around until he found the bed sheets, then slithered beneath them. “I will stay here.” Abantes burrowed into the soft pillows and cotton sheets, and to all appearances, settled in to sleep.

Corvo exchanged a puzzled look with Jessamine. She shrugged, and rose to find a nightdress and retreat behind a screen to change. 

“I suppose that's my cue to leave you two alone, then,” Corvo said, thankfully sounding amused. Jessamine knew her lover was more monogamous than she was, and she was very careful to make sure he was still comfortable whenever she eyed an appealing candidate to take to her bed. In this case, it seemed like Corvo had already bonded with Abantes. Abantes certainly seemed to think so.

“Don't be ridiculous, my dear,” Abantes chided, before his tone became smug. “After all, you were certainly enjoying yourself before I got here, if your state of undress is to be believed.”

Corvo spluttered. “How- How can you possibly know that?”

Jessamine emerged from her changing screen to see Abantes lift his head from the pillows to grin like a cat in the cream.

“I didn't. But thank you for confirming my suspicions.”

Jessamine laughed. “Alright, my lad. That's enough teasing Corvo. Corvo, you can stay if you like. It's still some hours before dawn strikes.”

Corvo flashed her one of his brilliant smiles, and then slipped into bed beside Abantes. Jessamine saw when his smile become one of his rare flashes of mischief, and he suddenly rolled over on top of Abantes, squashing the young man under his bulk.

“That's for tricking me,” he crowed.

Abantes squawked and flailed, nearly striking Jessamine in the face. Jessamine laughed and raised her hands to protect herself from pale limbs. She leaned over and said, “He's ticklish right under the arms,” ignoring Corvo's offended squawk of “ _Jess!_ ”

Abantes grinned and his long, clever fingers danced along Corvo's ribs, causing Corvo to convulse violently away, and nearly off the bed.

“Ack! Fuck you,” Corvo said through a sound that was suspiciously like a giggle.

“Well, I did offer, but it seemed to go right over your head, my dear.”

Corvo froze, an uncertain expression flitting over his face.

“What?”

“When you were spreading that salve on my legs,” Abantes said,looking amused. Then he turned his head to address Jessamine. “He's rather obtuse when it comes to such things, isn't he?”

Jessamine smirked. “I had to practically climb into his lap and shove his face into my breasts to get my intentions across,” she informed the delighted god. Over him, Jessamine could see Corvo's face darkening in the lamplight.

“Even so,” he snapped, “I wouldn't have done anything! You were injured!”

Abantes looked puzzled. “So?”

Silence greeted that question. Jessamine and Corvo exchanged a concerned and horrified look.

“Abantes,” Jessamine said, gently. “If or when we take you to bed, we'd want it to be with your enthusiastic consent, and have the experience be pleasurable for everyone involved.

Abantes looked baffled. “Why do you care? It's a transaction, not some sort of gift. As long as you get what you want out of it, it shouldn't matter.”

Corvo's voice was rough when he asked, “Why do you think that?”

“That's how it's always been,” Abantes answered, beginning to sound irritable. “Honestly, I don't understand what the fuss is about. I know this body is attractive. I know you find it attractive. I know I'm in your debts, so just get it over with. The two of you have proven to be less likely to hurt me purposefully, as it is.”

Jessamine recoiled as if slapped. She'd thought his little gestures and smiles were out of attraction, not... obligation. She remembered Corvo's hands smoothing over long limbs, they way they'd undressed him without his consent, and felt sick. Even though it was to access his wounds, and prevent infection, it felt horribly filthy now.

“No,” Jessamine said, her voice shaking. “We are not- Abantes, you're asking us to rape you!”

Abantes snorted. “Please, don't be so dramatic. I'm offering, aren't I? Therefore, it's not rape.”

“Consent under duress is no consent at all,” Corvo said. His hands were white-knuckled in the bedsheets. “I want to kill whoever made you believe such a thing. Abantes, that's not how sex should be! You should be able to wholly trust the person you're in bed with, not just hope they won't hurt you too much. Sex is a mutual gift to your partner. You give them unreserved pleasure, and they do the same, and so everyone leaves the bed feeling better than when they arrived.”

Abantes made a dubious face. “That sounds ridiculous, like it belongs in one of Jessamine's penny novels. I have nothing of value beyond myself, so I pay my debts that way. Honestly, I find it incredibly doubtful there's any difference.”

Jessamine sighed. “Abantes, we don't want to touch you unless you want us to. If you're just offering out of a sense of obligation, then don't offer.”

Abantes' jaw clenched. “Fine. You don't want me, then.”

“That's not what I said at all,” she chided. Then an idea occurred. “Come here.” Jessamine lightly touched Abantes' wrist. She drew him close, and leaned forward so their foreheads touched.

“May I kiss you?” she asked.

Abantes huffed. “If you're going to ask permission before doing anything, this is going to get very old, very quickly.” He tilted his head and tried to kiss her, but Jessamine pulled away until Abantes stopped, confused.

“I need you to give me consent,” she told him. Abantes made a show of rolling his eyes, somehow managing to convey it with his entire body.

“Yes-you-may-kiss-me-Jessamine-Kaldwin,” he sniped, sounding like he was reading from an incredibly boring novel.

Jessamine leaned forward and brushed a kiss over his lips. Every time Abantes tried to deepen it, she pulled back. When his hands began to stray, she gently directed them back to the neutral territory of her back or neck. Soon, Abantes pulled back, making a frustrated growl.

“What's the point of this?” he demanded. “This is ridiculous. Stop faffing about and fuck me already.”

“We're not having sex,” Jessamine said, mildly. She glanced at Corvo, hoping he'd caught on to what she was trying to do.

“Did you like when I was massaging the salve into your skin?” Corvo asked, shuffling forward.

Abantes made a face. “Of course I did.”

“Would you like me to show you how it's done?”

Abantes sighed. “I suppose I'll humour this strange idea you two have gotten into your heads. Yes, show me how to touch your lover.”

Corvo rolled his eyes at Jessamine, and gestured for her to put her feet in his lap. “Since we don't have oils,” he began, ignoring Abantes' mocking leer at the word 'oils'. “We'll just do a foot rub. Is that alright with you?”

“Are you going to be asking for my permission every step of the way?”

“Yes. Now, hold her foot with both hands, and rub your thumbs along the arch to the balls of her feet with steady pressure. Like this.” Corvo's big, warm hands rubbed her foot, eliciting a happy sigh from Jessamine. Abantes, however was unimpressed.

“Like what,” he said, and waved a hand in front of his face.

“Uh, right. Sorry,” Corvo said, sounding sheepish. “Here, give me your hand and come sit by me.”

Abantes sighed, sliding out from the covers and flopping down next to Corvo. He was so much like an irate cat, Jessamine half-expected to see a lashing tail behind him.

Jessamine reclined against the mound of pillows, watching Corvo teach Abantes. It seemed like her plan of showing the fallen god you can be intimate without being sexual was proceeding just fine, despite Abantes' resistance.

“So, now that you've rejected m... my advances, I suppose you'll want me to leave?” Abantes asked, something incredibly fragile in his expression.

Jessamine sat up and gently tugged him over to her. “No,” she reassured him, “of course not. You're welcome here, if you want to sleep with company.”

Abantes immediately pulled away from her hand and flopped over on the bed.

“I'm tired, then,” he snapped. “I want to sleep.”

Jessamine slipped under the covers again, lifting them so Corvo could do the same. Corvo curled up, lying so that his blade was within easy reach, and Jessamine lay so her back was against Abantes' flank. The fallen god just lay stiffly on his back, glaring sightlessly at the canopy.

Jessamine swallowed the urge to sigh. This was going to take a while.

***

Jessamine smiled cordially at High Overseer Martin over their tea. She'd woken this morning to being tangled in long limbs, and a sleep-muddled Abantes. Corvo had already left to return to his rooms. She'd roused Abantes, and the two had enjoyed a light breakfast of pastries and fruit. Then she'd walked him to his rooms and prepared for her morning audiences.

Now was the afternoon tea with the High Overseer. A delicate balance was needed in the Isles, especially in Gristol where the Abbey's influence was strong. She needed to have the Abbey's favour, but they needed her support as well. So weekly meetings were held with an Abbey representative. Monthly, with the High Overseer. Ostensibly these meeting were to review plans and decisions that could affect the other faction, but these days, it was more like a political fencing match.

“How are you settling in, High Overseer?”

“Quite alright. Though these are troubling times with what happened to the previous High Overseer, I seem to have won my brothers' trust.”

“We are glad to hear it,” Jessamine said. “We thought you seemed like a... resourceful young man.” _I know how you “won” their “trust”, Teague Martin._

“Thank you, your Majesty. I could say the same to you.” _You know my secret, but remember I know yours as well/_

“How are the efforts going with the Plague? We assume the Abbey is continuing to aid the people.” _Are you upholding your promises?_

“We've increased the amount of Overseers tending the chapels for the funeral rites, but with the rising numbers of dead arriving every day, we're going to be overrun.” _I'm trying, but this is a dire situation. Are you going to risk weakening the City Watch to help keep the dead off the streets, or are you going to burn with them?_

Jessamine opened her mouth to reply, but saw Martin glance at the timepiece again. The man had been flicking looks at it every few minutes.

“Do you have a pressing appointment, High Overseer?”

“No,” he said, before leaning on the table and lacing his fingers together. Behind Jessamine's chair, she could hear Corvo shift slightly.

“Or rather, yes. I do. You see I've been hearing reports of heresy amongst the upper nobility of Dunwall Tower.” Martin fixed her with a snake's unblinking stare. “While I'm certain your Majesty isn't privy to the private lives of her subjects, we do need to ensure the spiritual safety of Crown.”

“We are certain We have no idea what you're talking about, but We will accommodate a small squad of Overseers if they would like to search for their 'heresy'.”

Martin smiled, slow and vicious. “I'm glad you said that, your Majesty. It so happens I've anticipated your response and ordered the Tower's Overseer to go and make the appropriate arrests.”

Just as Martin finished talking, the doors to the conference room boomed open, and a squad of heavily-armed Overseers burst through. The knot of burly men opened to reveal Abantes, wrapped in chains, with a bruise across his cheekbone. The Overseers shoved him brutally to his knees.

Jessamine surged to her feet.

“How dare you,” she demanded, furious. “This man is my guest.”

“This 'man' is no man,” Martin said, rising and yanking Abantes head up by the hair. “This creature is a powerful witch, and we have reason to believe it's also an avatar for the Outsider.”

“That is ridiculous,” Jessamine snapped. “He's a visiting noble and my _guest_.”

“Well, then he has nothing to fear, don't you think?” Martin smirked. “Now, since we have your blessing...” He began to turn towards the door.

“You do not!” Jessamine made to stride forward, stopping when the Overseers dropped hand to their weapons.. “Release that man at once.”

“But your Majesty,” Martin said, “surely you understand we must be certain of these most dire accusations. We wouldn't want the people to think you're _complicit_ with heresy.”

Jessamine was about to snap a reply to that, when Abantes raised his head and slurred, “Don't.”

“Abantes--” Jessamine began, her heart aching for her friend.

“I'll go with them,” he managed around what looked like a swollen jaw. “They can't prove anything.”

Jessamine has never been so thankful to Anton's elixir and its quick-healing properties. All the wounds caused by Granny Rags were gone. She shuddered to think how the Overseers would have taken his appearance then.

“Abantes,” Jessamine said. “They'll likely torture you. I can't possibly let them do this.”

“It's... my choice,” he slurred. “I owe you, remember? Don't... don't start a war with the Abbey. Not for me.”

“Abantes...”

“Well, if that's settled,” Martin said, briskly nodding to the Overseers holding Abantes' chains. “We'll be off. So good to see you again, your Majesty.”

And the doors slammed shut behind them, as Jessamine looked on in helpless horror.


	10. In Which the End Is Nigh

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Head's up for gore, body horror, and suicide.
> 
> This story has a happy ending.

“Get Thomas, and tell him to come here” Jessamine ordered Corvo. “We are going to find Abantes and rescue him.”

“Martin would have fail safes,” Corvo said. “He'd have something set up in case you didn't let him leave. Something to expose us.”

“Then we will follow that snake back to his hole,” Jessamine snarled, furious. “I will not let Abantes get tortured in that place. We will find out if he's going to Holger Square or Whitecliff, and we'll rescue our friend!”

Corvo bowed, and walked briskly from the room. Jessamine gathered up her paperwork, trying to will her hands to stop shaking. She was going to kill that man when she found him. The Abbey was growing too bold.

There was a knock on her door, and Thomas entered, escorted by Corvo.

“Your Majesty,” Thomas said, stopping in front of her desk and bowing.

“Thomas, has Corvo briefed you on what has happened?”

“Yes, ma'am. Many of the Whalers have volunteered for this project. We have several tracking High Overseer Martin as we speak.”

“Good, I want you to tell me the minute it looks like he's settling into a building. I also want you to get Overseer masks and uniforms. We're going to infiltrate wherever they are holding Abantes, and get him out. Am I understood?”

“Yes, your Majesty,” Thomas said, bowing crisply and striding out.

Corvo touched Jessamine's shoulder. It was the closest they could get to embracing each other in public.

“What now?”

“Now we... wait,” Jessamine replied. She grimaced. Even though being the Empress meant there was quite a surplus of waiting, she hated it.

 _Hold on, darling,_ Jessamine thought at Abantes. _We'll get you safe as soon as we can._

*** 

It took weeks. Twice, Martin slipped the Whaler's watch, only to reappear up to a league away from his last position. He used decoys taking ships to Morley and Tyvia. It was only through Thomas' network of spies and tips that they were able to track him all the way to Whitecliff.

Once Thomas was certain of the location, he called a meeting. Jessamine and Corvo met him, Cedric and Brannon in the Whaler's common room. Thomas had a set of maps spread out over two tables. All three looked up when Jessamine and Corvo walked in.

“What have you got?” Jessamine strode over to the tables, and looked down at the maps. The appeared to be of a building, an expansive one.

“He's been taken to Whitecliff,” Thomas said, looking tired. “While incredibly difficult to get in, we have a passage we can use.”

He pointed at a spot on a map. “This is the Overseers dispose of bodies.” He kindly pretended not to notice Jessamine's flinch. “It's right near the holding cells and interrogation chambers for ease of disposing.”

“How kind of them to think of the working man,” Corvo sniped sardonically. Thomas' lips twitched in a momentary smirk.

“As I was saying, we can use that route to get in and out of the area without encountering much resistance.”

“Where are the dangerous heretics held? Are there any isolation areas?” Jessamine searched the map.

“Yes,” Brannon said, indicating areas closest to the interrogation chambers. “They're kept restrained here.”

“Where are the confiscated heretical items kept?” Corvo interjected.

Thomas looked up sharply at that. “With all due respect, Lord Attano, it's too high a risk to go looting in the Abbey's heart.”

“It's not looting,” Corvo said, “it's for Abantes. He needs to get there to return to the Void. Apparently, large amounts of heretical objects make it easier for the Void to reach him. Or something like that.”

“I see,” Thomas said. He clearly didn't, but was apparently willing to take their word on it. “Brannon?”

Brannon hesitated, before pointing to an area to the North of the cells. “You... you go down those stairs and it's below.” Jessamine noticed his hand was trembling. Cedric must have seen the same thing, because he leaned against Brannon's side and whispered something to him. Brannon visibly steeled himself and resumed talking. “It's kept behind a vault door. I don't know the passcode. Only the upper-ranking Overseers do.”

Jessamine frowned at the map. Another complication. “That's the ones with the red coats, yes?”

Brannon nodded, and looked earnestly at Jessamine. “They're very dangerous. Don't get them angry. Don't flinch or fight if they grab you.”

Jessamine glanced at Thomas. The young man had closed his eyes, as if pained.

“...I'll remember that, Brannon,” she quietly assured the powerfully-built Whaler, who trembled at the thought of the Abbey. “Thank you.” Brannon held eye-contact for a moment longer, before nodding solemnly.

“Thank you, Brannon,” Thomas said. “You're dismissed.”

Brannon nodded and left the room. Cedric followed after him.

Jessamine waited for the door to close behind them, before shooting Thomas a questioning look. Thomas just grimaced.

“It's... not my story to tell,” he said. “Just remember that the Mast-- that Daud found all of us, and pulled us from bad situations.” He shot her a mildly quelling look. “It's considered rude to ask about a Whaler's past.”

Jessamine nodded, filing this bit of Whaler culture away, and asked, “Do you have a plan to infiltrate Whitecliff?”

Thomas leaned over the maps again. “We go in through the chute they drop corpses down. Gerome will climb it, and drop a rope for the rest of us. Then we don our Overseer costumes, and split up. One group will get the code to the vault, the other will find Abantes. Hopefully he will be mobile under his own power, but if not, we can carry him. We will meet in front of the vault in, say... one hour after separating.

“After that, we'll enter the vault, I'll have two keep watch while you two... do whatever it is you need to do. Then, Outsider willing, we'll get out and no one will be the wiser.”

Corvo frowned down at the map. “What if we're caught?”

Thomas sighed. “Then we abandon the job immediately. Whitecliff is too dangerous to take on during high-alert. Void, it's too dangerous as it is, but we don't leave one of ours behind.”

“Abantes is one of yours?” Jessamine asked.

“You've run jobs with us, and you've proven your intentions to us,” Thomas said, holding her gaze. “You're one of us, now. And since Abantes and Corvo are yours, then they're one of us by extension.”

Jessamine was touched, and let it show on her face. “Thank you, Thomas.”

Thomas looked visibly uncomfortable at the show of emotion. “Yes, well. I'll go notify the men to prepare. Do you need any supplies? Wristbows, sleep darts, and so on?”

Jessamine glanced at Corvo. He seemed to think about it for a while before saying, “We have crossbows. Can your sleep darts be modified to fit standard crossbows?”

Thomas frowned. “We'd need to check with our supplier, and that will take time you don't want to waste.” Jessamine shook her head. “Alright. Do you have any training with crossbows?”

“I've been shooting things since I was a girl,” she told him. “While my sword skills are lacking, according to some, my aim is impeccable.” 

Corvo hummed in agreement. “She's a fairly good shot. Better than the average guard.”

Thomas nodded. “We'll meet you at the railcar station. We'll take the stop just before Whitecliff, so we don't end up delivered right into the Abbey's hands, rent or steal a boat and travel up the coast, climb the cliff face and then go through the corpse disposal chute.”

“Well, if I had ever needed proof that life as an assassin wasn't all glamour and intrigue...” Jessamine said, wryly. Thomas chuckled under his breath.

“No, there are a lot more mucking about in sewers, freezing in icy rain and, well, then there's Gerome.”

Jessamine laughed. “Well I, for one, enjoy Gerome.”

“You can have him,” Thomas said, straight-faced, rolling up the maps. “Please. Just. Take him off my hands.”

“I get the feeling he goes where he likes,” Jessamine replied wryly. Thomas sighed, muttering something that sounded like 'worth a shot'.

“I have to get everyone organized. Is an hour sufficient for you to get prepared?” Jessamine nodded. “Good. We'll see you then.”

An hour later, Jessamine and Corvo, Jessamine with her hair down and in a maid outfit, Corvo in simple workman's clothes, boarded a railcar to Whitecliff. They both carried bags that held their weapons. In the cabin with her was Gerome, Thomas, Cedric, and a few others she didn't recognise. When they disembarked, Thomas directed them to a cluster of reeds. Hidden in them was a boat with the supplies they'd needed in bundles, and Calla waiting at the helm. Then it was a short trip to the foot of Whitecliff, and a long climb up endless stairs carved into the soft limestone.

As soon as everyone had disembarked, Calla steered the boat away from the bay area, leaving them to the long climb up the cliff.

“Fuck... Overseers,” Gerome wheezed. The rangy man was flopped face-down in the grass behind some bushes, panting for breath. Still panting, he staggered upright and glared at the chute they used to dispose of bodies. “Fuck Overseers, and fuck their stairs.”

Thomas tossed him a bundle of rope, and Gerome snatched it out of the air without looking. “Fuck you too, Thomas,” he growled when the coil almost hit him in the head. Then, without further ado, he disappeared into the opening. Everyone else remained hidden in the shrubbery.

Within minutes, the rope uncoiled into view. Thomas stole a quick look around at the darkening landscape and ushered Cedric up. The boy darted up the rope with little apparent difficulty. Then it was Corvo's turn.

One by one, everyone climbed the steep metal chute. Jessamine's stomach threatened to rebel at the reek of bodily fluids smeared along the walls. “Fuck,” she gritted out, swallowing down bile. As she reached the top, hands caught her and helped her exit the chute. She leaned gratefully against Corvo to catch her breath.

“Here,” Cedric said, handing her an Overseer outfit. Jessamine quickly pulled everything on, seeing Corvo already dressed and glaring at the mask in distaste. Then Thomas emerged from the shaft, and Jessamine was gratified to see he, too, looked a little green.

His eyes swept over the assembled group, noting their appearance. “Good. Straighter postures for everyone, square your shoulders.”

“Just pretend you got a stick shoved up your ass,” Gerome remarked from where he was guarding the door.

Jessamine pulled her mask on and tried to emulate the same rigid posture the Tower's Overseer kept. Thomas swept a critical eye over her appearance.

“Hunch your shoulders a bit,” he said, reaching out to alter her posture. “It's pushing your breasts out too much. The looseness of the shirt helps hide them, but try to remember Overseers are all men, and so you must pretend to be one yourself.” He stepped back to appraise her again, and then nodded in satisfaction and started donning his own disguise.

“Jessamine, Gerome, Corvo; you three search the rooms for where Abantes may held. Cedric, Finja; you're with me. We're getting the code to the vaults. Kalo, Vitya are going to guard our escape route. Weapons check.”

There was a rustling of fabric as everyone checked their wristbows, pistols, and blades. When no issues were reported, Thomas, Cedric, and one of the unknown Whalers ducked out the door. Jessamine and the others waited a moment, then slipped out a side door to split up and search the cells.

The conditions in the cells were little better than livestock cages. There was a constant aroma of feces and the animal stink of fear in the air. The lights shone mercilessly down on the prisoners in the cells. There was no privacy, as each cell was open to the chill that seeped up from the ocean and rock.

Some cells Jessamine passed by were empty. Some held what seemed to be entire families. Many were completely unresponsive to the perceived Overseer walking down the rows.

None of the cages held her friend.

Jessamine met up with the others by the corridor that led to the isolation ward.

“Anything?” Jessamine whispered.

Gerome and Corvo shook their heads.

Corvo looked unsettled. “Where are all the guards?”

“Grumpy's right,” Gerome said, “this stinks of a fuckin' trap.”

Jessamine grit her teeth. “I am not leaving without him. We've come this far, and Calla will likely be a while before she returns.”

Gerome sighed. “Fine. We'll get Creepy and get the fuck out of here.”

They split up again, checking each door. Most of these cells were empty, though there was quite a bit more privacy available. They were, however, not long enough for a grown man to lie down in, and horribly cramped. Jessamine made a vow to use whatever means possible to change the conditions the Abbey kept its prisoners in. Perhaps, when the plague was cured, it was time to start the processes she had created to dismantle the Abbey's reach in Dunwall.

A quiet 'psst' yanked her back to reality. Corvo was gesturing for her to follow him around a corner of the cell block. As Jessamine rounded the corner, she found Gerome kneeling oh the filthy floor, fiddling with the lock.

“You found him?” Jessamine peered into the cell, but couldn't see Abantes from where she was standing.

“Yeah,” Gerome grunted, pulling out a set of wires bent into strange shapes. “Now shuddup. I gotta concentrate. You two stand watch.”

Jessamine exchanged a look with Corvo, surprised by Gerome's abruptness. Corvo glanced at the cell, looking unhappy. She guessed Abantes was not in the best condition. It was little surprise, considering the states of all the other prisoners.

She turned and walked to the entrance to the isolation ward. Despite the urgency, she was keenly aware of any noises that came from Gerome's direction. All the faint clicks and hissed curses. It seemed to take ages before she heard him growl a triumphant “Got it!” and immediately hurried back to the cell, just as Gerome was hauling the heavy, iron door open.

Inside, Abantes was curled on the floor, his chains clinking faintly with every shiver. He had been stripped and lashed, and there was dried blood along the edges of the manacles. Bruises littered his pale skin.

“Abantes,” Jessamine whispered, falling to her knees next to him. Abantes didn't move, apparently unconscious. Jessamine felt around his head for any sign of a major injury, not wanting to cause further damage to her friend when she moved him. He was clammy and burning hot, and his pulse was thready. Jessamine's heart clenched in her chest.

Abantes stirred, moaning hoarsely. Cracked and bleeding lips parted, but no words came out.

“Abantes, darling, dear heart. We're here to rescue you.”

He stirred again. “Jezz..mne,” he slurred, before dropping back unconscious.

Corvo cursed. “We'll need to carry him. That's one less set of arms to fight if we get caught.”

Gerome made much quicker work of the manacle's lock than on the door. “Fuckin' shoddy work on these,” he muttered. “Guess he didn't really seem like much of a threat.” The manacles came unlocked, but the metal was stuck to Abantes' skin in places by pus and blood, and fell away to much renewed bleeding. Jessamine swore.

“Nothing to clean it up with here,” Corvo said. “Everything in this place is filthy. It'd only introduce more infection to the wounds.” He met Jessamine's eyes. “We need to get him to the vault.” Corvo stooped and lifted Abantes into his arms without any apparent effort.

Moving quickly, the group made their way back to the storeroom that held the chute to the outside. There, the two Whalers that were left to guard the escape route had been joined by a third.

Cedric stepped forward. “You got him? Good.” He pulled the mask up to reveal a grim face. “Majesty, the halls are barely staffed. We've cleared you a path to get to the vault, but you need to hurry. There's something wrong here, and we're getting worried.”

Exchanging an anxious look with Corvo, the two left Gerome behind to join the guards and followed Cedric back to the vault. The boy was clearly unsettled, and Jessamine could feel why. The very air seemed to ooze fear and disquiet. Just at the edge of her hearing, something was whispering. Shadows seemed to twist in her peripheral vision. As they got closer to where the Abbey kept its contraband bone charms, carvings and portraits began to look subtly wrong. Bodies in just the wrong proportions, possessing too many teeth. Tables seemed to have the wrong dimensions. The red paint on the walls seemed to glisten, as if it was fresh.

Thomas and the whaler he'd identified as Finja were standing on either side of a massive vault door. While it had likely once been imposing, it was warped, like it had been exposed to incredible heat. Where there must have been carvings depicting all seven Scriptures, there were scenes of violence and madness instead. In several places, the door bulged outwards, as if something had tried to get out. Something massive.

“I suppose we won't be needing that code,” Corvo said, weakly, gazing up at the damage. “Will it even open?”

Thomas, not saying a word, hauled on the door. It opened easily, despite clearly no longer fitting the frame. In several spots, Jessamine thought she saw it warp _through_ the wall.

“It's trying to get out,” Abantes moaned, sweat-damp head lolling. “We have to stop it. The Void is coming.”

Beyond the door, there was a bare, stone staircase spiraling down out of sight. It was narrow enough that they had to proceed single-file.

Down and down they went. Jessamine avoided touching the walls. Not after she could feel them breathe with every step she took.

When the stairs finally leveled out, it was into a huge circular room filled with shelves and cupboards. The beams holding up the ceiling were white as bone, and the floor seemed to be more of the same. The very air shivered as a great heart seemed to beat within the walls. Jessamine realized, to her horror, that her heart was beating in time to the dull noise.

She barely took two steps into the room before a pistol was pressed against her temple.

“Where is he?” Martin's voice was raw, like he had been screaming. Jessamine could hear Corvo's sharp inhale as he rounded the bend and saw what was happening.

Martin seemed to hear it too, because he snarled and shoved hard at her skull with the pistol. “Get into the centre of the room, all of you!” Corvo and Thomas filed down the stairs.

“There he is. The man of the hour!” Martin's eyes were wild, his hair and clothing in complete disarray. Bloody froth bubbled at the corners of his mouth.

“Now,” he snarled, gesturing with the pistol. “I'm going to execute all of you. I'm going to k-kill you all and you'll be dead and then it can stop. Screaming. In my mind. I will pull the trigger and your blood will feed them. And you!” The gun pointed at Corvo. “Put that _thing_ down. I need it alive. I need it alive so I can control them!”

Jessamine stared. Whatever had happened while Abantes was in Martin's possession had clearly unhinged the man.

“Martin-” she began in a calm voice, trying to keep him from pulling the trigger. Mad eyes swiveled to fix on her, and the wavering barrel pointed her way.

“Shut up! Shut up shut up shut up,” Martin screamed. “Restrain their lies!”

The shadows that gathered in the corners (but the room had no corners!) writhed and surged. From their depths came Overseers. They moved like something else, something that had a different placement of limbs and joints was moving them. The Overseers lurched forward and grabbed them with inhuman strength.

“Now I'm going to kill you,” Martin said, his pistol pointing with sudden steadiness at Jessamine's forehead.

Beside her, Corvo tensed. She knew what was going to happen, seeing it unfold with horrifying clarity. Corvo was going to take the bullet. Then he was going to fall, and they'd be torn apart by the creatures wearing the skin of Overseers.

The great heartbeat in the room picked up tempo to match hers.

Then Martin spasmed, a hand wrapping around his wrist and yanking so the pistol fired harmlessly into the wall above Jessamine's head. As Martin crumpled, a crossbow bolt sticking out from the back of his head, Daud stepped out from behind the body.

“Master,” Thomas breathed. “How...?”

“You lot need to practice your stealth,” he rasped, glaring at the Overseers that continued to stand frozen, holding everyone in place. “I've stuck around Dunwall, listening. When I heard about the High Overseer himself escorting a prisoner, I took it upon myself to tail him and leave clues for you to find.”

“While this reunion is fascinating,” Jessamine said, “could you please dispatch these... things holding us?”

Daud frowned, stepping over Martin's corpse. “If they were created by Martin, they should have died with h--”

A shot rang out, and Daud stumbled.

Despite the crossbow bolt lodged in his brain, Martin was staggering to his feet, pistol still trained on the assassin.

“I can't die,” he whispered. “You don't think I tried? After what I've invited into our world? I. Cannot. Die.”

“Master!” Thomas fought against his captors, never taking his eyes off of Daud, who was pressing a hand against the bloom of blood on his gut. There was a meaty crack, and Thomas screamed.

“Don't struggle,” Martin chided, picking up Abantes by the hair and pressing the gun to his skull. “They don't like it when you struggle. I saw them rip a full grown man in half. Like paper.”

Jessamine couldn't take her eyes off of Abantes. Limp and pale in Martin's bloody hands. “Please, don't do this,” she begged.

Martin turned to her, looking incredibly sad. “I have to,” he whispered. “I'm taking him with me, and you will die down here in the heart. You're mine now to kill as I please!”

“No.”

Pale hands wrapped around the pistol. A long finger curled around the trigger. Sightless eyes fixed on Jessamine's. Thin lips curved in a genuine, fond smile.

“They're mine.”

The pistol roared one last time.


	11. In Which All Things Come To An End

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is it, folks.

Jessamine stood ramrod straight, dressed entirely in black, as Thomas came forward with a torch. The body upon the pyre had been cleaned and filled with sweet-smelling herbs to counter the scent of roasting meat. As the fire consumed the man upon it, she absentmindedly squeezed her left hand with her right, remembering the events that led up to his death.

_The pistol fired, and Abantes' head snapped to the left. There was a moment of stillness, before the storm ripped through the room._

_It was like being buffeted by a hurricane, but nothing stirred. Jessamine's skin felt tight and hot, and it was a struggle to even breathe. Thomas made a faint, wounded noise, and slumped in the dead Overseer's grip. Corvo's head bowed under the weight of what felt like an immense being suddenly focusing its attention on them._

_Martin shuddered, repeating, “No no no no no no...” He let Abantes' corpse crumple to the ground, and backed away._

_Abantes' body convulsed as the storm fixed on him. The air warped and shimmered over him like a heat wave. The runes and charms lying around the room SCREAMED._

_Then Abantes was gone, and in his place floated a god._

Thomas stood before the flames, head bowed. Then he spoke to those assembled.

“Though he wasn't a good man, or even a kind one, Daud was an excellent leader,” Thomas began. “He cared for us, in his own way, and did what he could to protect us from the Abbey. He took us in and trained us in how to survive. He fed us and offered shelter. And then he died saving the world.”

_“For someone who so vehemently opposes me, you have certainly come dangerously close to becoming one of my deranged worshippers, Teague Martin.”_

_The Outsider grabbed Martin by the jacket, hauling him close._

_“Because of your foolishness, you very nearly doomed all of reality to be consumed by the Void,” he growled. Though he still sounded detached, anger threaded through his tone. “You nearly destroyed everything. Everything I've built up and watched grow. And now that you've weakened the fabric of reality here, I can and and will stop this.”_

_The Outsider released Martin, stepping back with a vicious smile. Martin choked, reaching a hand up to touch his throat. The skin of his arms began to bulge oddly. Then it split. Jessamine watched in horror as delicate coral grew out of the wound. Blood blossoming on his shirt showed similar growths along his chest and hips. Martin fell to the ground, seizing as the coral seemed to spread to his throat and face. A beautiful pink anemone sprouted from an eye socket._

_The Outsider turned his back on the doomed High Overseer._

_“Jessamine,” he murmured, reaching out and cupping her jaw. “I return to you my Mark.” He caught her hand and pressed a burning kiss to the back of it._

_Corvo hissed, which meant he was likely receiving the brand as well._

_“Abantes,” Jessamine managed, tearing her eyes away from Martin, who was being consumed by polyps. “What is going on? Are you alright?”_

_“I'm the Outsider once more, dear Jessamine,” he said, gently stroking a thumb along her cheek. “I suggest you make your escape. I'm going to drop this building into the sea.”_

_He disappeared, only to reappear crouching in front of Daud, who was clutching the bleeding wound in his stomach._

_“My dear, old friend,” the Outsider murmured. “Your story has reached its end.”_

_Daud coughed out a rough laugh. “I knew that long ago, you bastard. I figured I was living on borrowed time ever since that fucking gazebo. Just get on with it. You're keeping me alive and conscious, aren't you?”_

_The Outsider shrugged. “It's lingering effects of the Void. Once you leave the area, it'll dissipate and you'll die naturally.”_

_Jessamine frowned. “There's nothing you can do?” It felt wrong to not try to fight for a man's life, even a man who had killed like Daud._

_Daud heaved himself to his feet, grimacing in pain. “Don't worry about it, Empress. I've lived a long enough life, and brought pain to so many people. It's best to just slip away into memory for an old assassin like me. I'm not going to survive this shot. I've made my peace with what comes.”_

_Jessamine sighed. More drama. But she could at least afford the man the dignity of his choice._

_Corvo grunted, heaving an unconscious Thomas to his feet. “We should go before anything else goes wrong,” he said._

_“Quite true,” the Outsider agreed, a knowing quirk to his lips. Right on cue, there was a rumble of falling rock._

_“Really?” Daud glared at the god. “You're bringing down Whitecliff?”_

_“I don't interfere, old friend,” the Outsider replied, his smirk growing. “You know that.”_

_“I know you're full of shit,” Daud grumbled, starting to walk towards the stairs._

_Jessamine and Corvo followed, though Jessamine hesitated as she approached the Outsider. “Will you be alright? Is there anything else you need?”_

_The god's smirk gentled into something softer and more affectionate. “My dear, you've given yourself freely to me, and kept me as safe as you could while I was weak and vulnerable.” He caught her face in his hands, and pressed a kiss to her forehead. “I will see you soon, dear Jessamine.” He vanished, leaving a room of corpses and bones behind._

_Jessamine fled the Abbey._

Thomas' arm never fully recovered. The limb had been twisted and torn beyond repair, even the miracles available from Sokolov's elixir. The young man lost it below the elbow, and generally kept it strapped to his side to keep it out of the way. 

Thomas was now fighting back tears, recalling how he met Daud as a young man on the streets. From the looks on the other Whaler's faces, this wasn't a new story, but not one told often.

“I'd killed one of his targets. He took me under his wing and trained me to be better. He always says-- said. That I was too pathetic to leave behind.” There was a watery laugh. “I followed him ever since.”

Calla stepped forward. “I came to him drunk off my arse and wearing someone else's shirt. He let me stay. I haven't had any reason to regret it since.” She uncorked a bottle of Old Dunwall Whiskey. “Here's to you, you scarred up old bastard.” Calla splashed some of the whiskey on the flames, then took a deep swig.

Gerome tossed a box of Serkonan cigars on the pyre. “Here's to pay you back for all the fuckin' cigs I stole from you. I ain't gonna talk about how we met, most of you pups are too young an' delicate to hear that story, but he pulled me out of the muck, and gave me a new family.” Gerome stepped back, fidgeting with something at his neck.

Cedric stepped forward. “I, uh. I thought I was dying. You all remember how that went.” A muted chuckle ran around the group. “He never treated me differently, despite being what I am. And I always appreciated that.” The boy tossed an apple onto the pyre, which apparently had certain meaning for him.

Rinaldo and Rulfio both spoke of how they met Daud, which was apparently something involving exploding fruit and booby-trapped shoes. They tossed a boot onto the pyre.

Brannon didn't say anything, just threw an old, scratched Overseer mask into the pyre and walked back to his position.

Jessamine watched as Whaler after Whaler came forward, said something, and then threw some personal item onto the fire. Eventually, everyone was done, and the fire was getting low. Corvo and Jessamine walked back to the Tower.

“Thank you for attending,” Thomas said. “You didn't need to. I know we can never make up for what we've done, but--”

Jessamine held up a hand. “Although I may never forgive Daud for taking my daughter from me, but I do respect him. He took a gang of wildly different people and made them into a family, and that's a skill I can understand. I think, should he have lived, I might have even grown to like him.”

Thomas' lips tugged up in a small smile. “I'm glad you got to see that part of him.”

Corvo lightly clapped Thomas on the shoulder. “I do hope you're going to continue to work with us, Thomas.”

Thomas looked surprised. “But...” He trailed off, gesturing at his stump.

Jessamine smiled. “You don't need two arms to direct the Whalers. We hired you for your brilliant mind, not your physical capabilities.”

Thomas stared, gaping. Corvo clapped him gently on the shoulder.

“Welcome to the Tower, Thomas,” he said.

***

“Have you heard from him?”

Corvo poured Jessamine a few fingers of whisky, pressing a quick kiss to her temple.

“No,” she answered. “Not for weeks. You?”

Corvo sipped from his own glass and shook his head. “If he's going to contact any of us, it'd be you. It's rather obvious you're the favourite.”

Jessamine smirked into her glass. “Jealous?”

Corvo's eyes widened in exaggerated horror. “Void, no. I can only take so much cryptic nonsense before getting bored. He seems rather high-maintenance.”

Jessamine glanced at him from under her lashes. “Unlike myself?”

Corvo caught the expression on her face and gently placed the whisky on the night table. “...Of course.”

Jessamine tilted her head towards her feet in silent command. Corvo slid off the bed and knelt beside her.

“No speaking unless I ask you a question or you need me to stop, understand?” It had been a very long time since their last game.

Corvo nodded, keeping his eyes lowered. Jessamine placed one shoe-clad foot on his knee.

“You know what to do.”

Corvo's wonderfully deft fingers made quick work of her laces and buckles. He slid the boot off her foot, caressing her calf and ankle along the way. He waited for her to raise her other foot, and repeated the process. Then he removed her socks, stroking his thumbs up her foot as he did so.

“My hair,” she ordered next, and Corvo shuffled around to kneel on the bed behind her, removing all the pins. Once again, he massaged where her hair had been pulled tight along her scalp and neck. Then he removed all her ornamentation; necklace, rings, and bracelet.

Jessamine stood and faced him, tilting her chin up to stare down at her lover. Corvo began to unbutton her jacket, carefully folding it and placing in her wardrobe. Then her pants got the same treatment.

Jessamine stopped him when he reached for her brassiere. 

“I want to see you, first,” she commanded.

Smirking a little – he knew his strengths, the brat – Corvo shucked his coat of office and hung it on one of the chairs. Then came his shirt, revealing a muscular, lightly furred torso. A few scars crossed his skin, most from his life as a soldier and his time competing in the Blade Verbena.

His hands dropped to his belt, an eyebrow quirking inquisitively.

“All of it,” Jessamine said, admiring the view.

Corvo unbuckled his belt, sliding it out of the loops slowly. He rolled it up and placed it on the chair. Then removed his trousers, likely with more bending than was entirely necessary. At last, he stood before her, naked and aroused.

Jessamine smirked, tilting her head towards the bed. Corvo settled onto the covers, looking up at her with dark eyes. Jessamine took another moment to appreciate the man before her.

“Well, now,” she murmured, climbing up to straddle his thighs. “What should we do with this?” Jessamine drew one long nail up the underside of Corvo's cock. She relished the sharp intake of breath as Corvo suppressed a noise.

Jessamine smiled down at him, proud of his obedience. “Good lad,” she praised, watching the flush spread across his cheeks.

Jessamine leaned over him, pressing a light kiss to his sternum. Her hands slid up from his hips to his chest, as she moved to take one nipple into her mouth and bite. Corvo arched, stopping breathing for a second as he tried to keep from moaning. Jessamine smirked up at his flushed face, and twisted the other nipple while blowing a cool breath of air over the bite. She could feel his cock jerking against her belly.

She leaned up farther to press gentle kisses and harsh bites to his chest, shoulders and neck. She could just barely hear the whines caught in his throat, and rocked against him.

She was so caught up in taking Corvo apart, she didn't notice the other presence in the room until a light cough caught their attention. Jessamine jerked and blinked at the chair that was next to the bed. What had been an empty chair now held a very familiar, very smug deity.

Corvo yelped and flailed to cover himself, turning a lovely brick red. Jessamine, who never much cared for propriety anyways, didn't. She sat back, still pinning Corvo down by the thighs, and glared.

“Don't let me interrupt,” the Outsider drawled, making an expansive gesture with one hand while the other cupped his chin. “As you were.”

“Don't you 'as you were' me, Outsider,” Jessamine snapped. “Where have you been?!”

The Outsider's expression softened. “I needed to... reassert myself over the Void. It needed to be reminded that I will not be its pawn.”

Corvo, apparently resigned to being sprawled on his back entirely naked, threw an arm over his eyes and groaned. “It would have been good of you to send some sort of word,” he muttered. “We were worried.”

“Because you 'love us'?” The Outsider appeared beside his head, sitting cross-legged on the bed. “I do seem to remember you saying such a thing.”

Corvo moved his forearm to reveal one eye. “Don't be ridiculous. Of course I do. If it hasn't been obvious by now, then you need to pay better attention.”

The god looked slightly unsettled by how easily Corvo admitted it, but recovered quickly.

“I did show up, though,” he protested. “Now you know that everything is back to as it should be. The balance of the Void had been restored, and power is once again being redirected back to my chosen few.”

Corvo sighed. “And that couldn't have waited until after?”

The Outsider blinked with mock innocence. “After your surprisingly deviant sex?”

“Outsider,” Jessamine warned, trying not to laugh at her lover's incredibly indignant expression.

“I wanted to try an experiment,” the god said, for once looking unsure. “You said you would do whatever it takes to help me hold on to my humanity.”

Jessamine exchanged a concerned look with Corvo. “What is it?”

“A few centuries ago, I learned that, I could enter the minds of my Marked,” the Outsider said hesitantly. “Forcing my way in just destroyed them, but with permission...” He trailed off and looked cautiously at Jessamine and Corvo.

Jessamine exchanged another speaking look with Corvo. “You want to possess us?”

“No! Well, in a way,” the Outsider corrected. He shifted a little on the bed. “You recall when I checked your mind for those leeches? It would be like that, only sustained. Think of it as more of a partnership. I can touch your mind and speak through you, but you would need to allow me to.”

Corvo's flush was fading now. “Do you have a preference?”

The Outsider shrugged. “Not particularly. When you reach my age, gender is rather irrelevant.”

“Well, let me put it this way,” Jessamine said, bracing her palms on Corvo's chest and leaning forward. “Who do you want to fuck?”

The Outsider threw back his head and laughed. She was getting used to the oddness of his laugh, Jessamine mused. The crackling sound of burning whale oil running beneath the laughter barely registered anymore.

Corvo meanwhile yelped, “Jessamine” and suffered a return of the blush. Jessamine cackled, unrepentant.

“Well, put that way,” the Outsider drawled, and vanished. Beneath her, Corvo choked and shuddered.

“Void, that is weird,” he managed, screwing his eyes shut. Then he was very silent and still for a moment.

“Outsider?” Jessamine touched Corvo's cheek.

“Mm,” Corvo/the Outsider hummed. His normally warm, brown eyes were filled with black. His head tilted back against the pillows, and his hips rolled against hers.

“Well,” they murmured. “I forgot how odd this felt.” A hand smoothed down Corvo's chest, then wrapped around his cock. The Outsider moved their hand in a languid stroke, arching Corvo's back with a low moan. Then he grasped Jessamine's hips and flipped them around.

“I do believe there was talk of fucking?” While the tone was the Outsider's, the slow grin was all Corvo's.

Jessamine caught his hands before they could unclasp her brassiere. “First, I need to ask if there's anything you don't like,” she said, ignoring his petulant pout.

“Talking when I could be using my tongue for other, more pleasurable acts.”

“Outsider,” Jessamine chided. “We aren't going to do anything if you don't tell me.”

The Outsider sighed, and buried Corvo's face against her neck. Jessamine squirmed at the ticklish prickle of Corvo's stubble.

“Corvo is saying the same thing,” the Outsider sighed. “Don't hold me down. I don't like pain. That's all. _Now_ may we have sex?”

“Corvo is able to talk to you?” This was interesting news.

And possibly useful.

The Outsider huffed again, the puff of air tickling her neck. “Of course. I did say it was more of a partnership, didn't I? It would be a poor partnership that forced one individual to remain silent.”

Jessamine arched her back a little. “As you were, then.”

She could feel the Outsider grin against her neck, and deft fingers slipped underneath her to undo her brassiere. The shadows of the room coiled and danced around them, as if a candle was lit. Jessamine felt feather-light touches to her legs and belly. It seemed that even when in Corvo's body, the god retained some control over the shadows.

The Outsider muttered something and his uncertain fumbling suddenly grew confidant and sure. Corvo's chuckle rumbled against her chest, indicating who was helping with the unfamiliar clasps. Her brassiere was removed, and Corvo rubbed his thumbs against the red lines where the wire dug in.

Then it seemed the Outsider was back in control, smug smirk back in place as he dipped his head to lap at her nipples. Jessamine arched her back into his mouth.

Then that hot mouth moved downwards. Lips pressed against her sternum. Then his tongue dipped into her navel. Then the Outsider nudged her legs apart to tug her underwear down with his teeth.

Jessamine bit back a whine as a tongue lapped at around her clit. Hands pinned down her hips before she could rock against his mouth. One broad finger rubbed lightly against her entrance, testing to see how ready she was.

“Oh, Void, please,” Jessamine begged, trying to angle her hips so that the questing finger was forced towards her entrance. It slid in, the pain of the stretch heightening her pleasure. The Outsider seemed to enjoy her eagerness and laved at her clit with his tongue.

Jessamine squirmed in place as another finger was added. The slight stretch was exquisite. She rolled her hips against his fingers, enjoying the drag of the callouses.

Then the Outsider rolled her clit around his tongue, eliciting a cry from Jessamine. Her hips jerked upwards, despite the hold on them. The Outsider hummed against the sensitive nerves, causing Jessamine to squirm helplessly against the sheets.

“Up, up, get up here,” Jessamine urged, digging her heels into the body between her legs. The Outsider smirked and grazed his teeth against her clit, making her gasp and writhe.

“Are you quite sure?” The god looked incredibly smug. “I wouldn't want to do anything you didn't like.”

Jessamine glared at him. The Outsider just chuckled in response. “No need to fret, my dear,” he teased. “I did promise, didn't I?”

He crawled up her body, one hand reaching down to guide himself into her. Jessamine held her breath at the stretch, then let it out in a quiet moan. Her hands smoothed over Corvo's muscular back. He began to undulate slowly, each thrust reaching deeper into her, allowing her time to adjust before moving deeper. Jessamine swung her legs up and crossed them over his back, digging her heels in and urging the Outsider to move faster.

The Outsider nipped and licked at her neck, occasionally biting down and sucking hard to bring the blood to the surface. The shadows curved around Corvo's body and lightly tickled her nipples with feather-light touches. Jessamine rocked harder into the Outsider's thrusts in response.

The Outsider pulled out, whispering, “Turn over. On your knees” in a husky voice. Jessamine rushed to comply and was rewarded with the sensation of Corvo's body draping over her back and the Outsider thrusting back inside. She bit back a whine as he set his teeth in her nape.

Each thrust was more powerful now. Jessamine had to press a palm against the headboard to brace herself.

“Close,” she gasped. The Outsider just hummed in response, his own thrusts growing harsh and erratic, his breath hissing out from between his teeth. A hand slipped beneath her to stroke and rub at her clit, just enough to spill her over the edge.

For a moment, Jessamine saw nothing but white, before she slowly came back to her body. She became aware of another presence in her mind, ever-so-gently cradling her.

 _Good?_ the Outsider asked, his voice a mere whisper. She opened her eyes to see Corvo's, now back to their usual colour, watching her.

“Very good,” she confirmed, leaning up to kiss her lover, and sending a mirroring wave of affection at the god resting in her mind. She could feel him startle at it, before he surged forward and gave her the sensation of being wrapped in a hug.

“You left,” Corvo said, clearly addressing the god. Jessamine felt a phantom nudge at her mind, and didn't fight back when her lips moved without her telling them to.

“The sensations were too intense,” the Outsider said through Jessamine's mouth. Corvo nodded and curled on his side next to Jessamine.

 _Are you alright, now?_ Jessamine had to ask the Outsider. At his wordless confirmation, she continued. _Do you understand the difference consent makes now?_

She felt the Outsider gently disengage from her mind. He reappeared after a moment, sitting cross-legged on the bed, looking completely untouched.

“Yes, yes,” he murmured, leaning over her. “There is a difference, consent is important, et cetera, et cetera.”

Jessamine laughed at the grumpy expression. “Alright, I'll stop bothering you. Will you spend the night?”

The Outsider smiled, shook his head, and pressed a cool kiss to her damp forehead.

“I still have matters to attend to regarding the Void,” he said, brushing an affectionate hand through Corvo's hair. The god pressed another kiss to Corvo's temple.

“Was the experiment a success?” Corvo asked, opening an eye to peer up at the Outsider.

The Outsider smiled enigmatically. “Perhaps,” he murmured. “I suppose I'll just have to conduct more to find out.”

Jessamine laughed. With a lover on each side, both happy with their lots, she felt – for the first time in a very long while – that perhaps it would all turn out all right.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you to everyone who commented. I do this for you.  
> Thank you to Drea, who is the reason this got written in the first place.
> 
> Once again, if there's anything you want to see, like finding out what is that locket around Gerome's neck, the reasons behind Brannon's trauma, a scene where Gerome finds out about who caused the Rat Plague and LOSES IT, Daud being a dramatic dumbass, etc. let me know in the comments and I'll add it to Save the Whale(r)s.

**Author's Note:**

> Find me for questions or remarks on [tumblr](http://wittyusernamed.tumblr.com/). I post fandom stuff and I'm always happy to answer questions


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